Lying in Wait
by WonderWithMe
Summary: After a narrow escape from the hospital, the Winchester’s head to Clearwater, Florida. With Dean’s behaviour still baffling a weakened Sam, the youngest Winchester soon uncovers a deviously evil plot with devastating consequences.
1. In Reflection

**And so we start again ! Welcome back to all the old readers from the 'Forsaken' story and a big fat 'Howdy' to all the new ones ! Now, firstly I have to say that yes it would be helpful if you have read 'Forsaken' before 'Lying in Wait, but I believe it's not all that necessary, as there is enough of an explanation throughout the early chapters to explain what took place; however if bored and want to know the background to why the boys are here, feel free to read it :o)**

**Well I do hope you enjoy this story, personally I am having great fun writing it. It's under the 'Supernatural/Angst' section, but seriously, it could also fit into almost every other section.**

**Finally can I thank every one who was kind enough to review on my last story. It was my first ever 'Supernatural' story and I was lost for words by the amount of people who wrote to tell me they enjoyed it. I just hope that you enjoy this one. Once again thank you.**

**Now on with ' In Reflection'…..**

Lying in Wait –Chapter 1- In Reflection

" _Come on…!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs, as he ploughed through the doors of the wooden cabin and burst out into the dark riddled sky. His hazel eyes shot back as he looked to see Dean just inches behind him._

_His breathing tight in his lungs, he came to a jagged stop a few meters away from the Impala, Dean gasping for air beside him._

" _What the hell was that..!" Sam shrieked, looking at his older brother. The shot gun he held in his hand dropped lifelessly to the floor._

" _I don't know.." Dean admitted, as he sucked in a shaky voice, " Only damn thing I am sure about was that thing in there was real, like super duper friggin real…"_

" _It was human…" Sam whispered as his breathing finally fell back in line, " That thing wasn't even a thing Dean, it was human I saw it's eyes…"_

" _Oh hell yeah.." Dean said looking angrily at the shot gun filled with rock salt, " Which means these things were pretty much useless…"_

" _How could they not know it was human..?" Sam asked with a shake of his head. " Stupid friggin morons…"_

" _They lied.." Dean said angrily as he strode towards the Impala, his shoulders hunched in anger, " And I'm gonna find his ass and kick it with a steel toed boot and then I'm gonna use this gun and fill him with rock salt.."_

" _That won't make this situation any better Dean.." Sam pointed out with a sigh,_

" _Well it'll make me feel a whole damn sight better…" Dean muttered as he glanced over his shoulder at Sam. " You gonna stand there all night, because I'm just in the mood to leave your ass here so you can bond with old crazy in the house back there.."_

_Sam chuckled dryly, that was typical Dean. Fed up and moody because the hunt hadn't gone to plan._

" _I'm coming…" Sam said with a chuckle as he jogged after his stomping brother._

" _Shit ass morons and their stupid shit ass information.." Dean muttered, " I ought to go hunt them down and shoot a clip into them off a principle alone.."_

_Sam couldn't stop laughing, which seemed to incense Dean more._

" _What, smart ass you think this is funny..?" Dean demanded, " That we drove for nine hours to get to this dump and then to find that the people they should have called in first friggin place was the SWAT team.." _

" _You know, things would….-" Sam's voice changed instantly, his body sounded crushed. _

_Nothing but a gasp escaped his body as his eyes locked with Dean's and then second's later fell face down to the floor._

_The sound of the gun crack had shattered the silent night._

_Dean's shot was simple and painless; it was once straight to the man's chest. Dean watched as the tall, heavy weight man gasped and fell to the floor._

_Dean stared at Sam's body, it lay, never moving once it had fallen. The gun fell from Dean's hands as he slowly dragged his unwilling feet over to where Sam lay._

_He gently reached down and turned him over, his eyes were closed. Dean then looked at his hands that were shaking violently, they were stained with blood. _

_Sam's blood._

_His hands searched under Sam's neck for pulse, it was routine but Dean knew differently. This outcome wouldn't be routine._

_Sam was dead….._

xxxxXXXXxxxx

His body was clammy, wet and damp as Dean Winchester snapped into a sitting position on his bed. He scrubbed his hands over his face and then stared down at his hands. No blood, but God, was his hands shaking.

Slipping off the queen sized bed, Dean was grateful that Sam wasn't sharing a room with him.

Sam had a room all to his own, and Dean had to admit, that the beach house apartment they were renting was fantastic.

It was the perfect way for the two of them to recover from the trauma, bruises and injuries they'd picked up, and truth was, they were enjoying themselves.

That was until the nights stepped in.

Then the stupid games would start for Dean. The panic he was always able to quell during the day suddenly became an unbearable burden at night. Most nights he'd drink simply to put himself into an unconscious state, where times like tonight, where no drink had been involved, the nightmares reared their ugly heads.

Each of them always ended the same horrific way. Sam dying and Dean never doing anything to save him. Just standing there and watching him die.

Tonight's dream had been no different, although Dean was curious to where these elaborate hunts were coming from.

Sitting on the end of his bed, he glanced at the luminous face of the bed side clock. It was just gone 3am. It was time to go and check on Sammy.

Opening his bed room door quietly he suddenly stared down at what his feet had just stood in.

Bending down, Dean touched the white grainy substance and smelt his hand with a wrinkled expression on his face.

It was a thick line of salt.

Confused to what it was doing there, Dean, crept out into the spacious living area and saw that Sam's door was closed. Padding across the wooden floor in just a pair of shorts and being careful not to bump into the sofas or coffee table, Dean silently pushed open Sam's bedroom door and poked his head around.

Dean suddenly shoved open the entire door and stood in the entrance with his hands on his hips.

Sam's bed was empty.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester inhaled deeply as the wind gently blew his dark brown hair about on his head. There was something about the sea air that always made him feel sleepy. With his knees hugged against his chest, and his arms ruefully wrapped around his legs, he kept his breathing deep and steady, allowing the calming sea air to help unclog the mess that was his mind.

It was a beautiful night.

The night air was warm as Sam sat in the sand dunes in a pair of jogging bottoms and t-shirt. He let his toes wriggle in the sand as he closed his eyes inhaling once again the salty sea air.

He was only a couple hundred feet away from the beach side apartment he was sharing with his older brother. They'd been here just over a week and as much as it puzzled Sam into how Dean had managed to, one, acquire the apartment and two, afford to pay for it; Sam was actually having a good time.

Well as good a time as someone recovering from a brain haemorrhage could actually have. Sure he wished things were different.

He wished he still didn't feel as sluggish as he did, he wished his body didn't ache the way it constantly did. He also wished that the constant pain in his head would just for once take a leave of absence. Finally, Sam wished that Dean would go back to normal, because once Dean returned to his cocky, self assured, good natured way, only then Sam could finally calm down and truly relax.

…_Dean…._ Sam thought, his brother causing him to smile.

There was something about Dean at the moment that was bothering Sam.

Yes Dean had taken care of him the last week and a half, in fact Sam couldn't complain once. Dean had been a saint; patient with Sam's slow movements, understanding when Sam's mood's would jump from happy to fighting back tears in the space of a minute. Dean had been as good as gold, never once shouting at him, letting him do exactly what he wanted, which judging from Sam's current condition, wasn't very much, but the fact that Dean was allowing him the options warmed Sam's sinking confidence.

It was almost like Dean was scared of something. It was the something that was bugging Sam, along with his brother's odd behaviour.

Sam had lost count the amount of times he'd physically been woken out of his sleep by Dean. In fact it had led to some rather chosen words by Sam, which seemed to simply wash over an unfazed Dean. Sam seemed to be unable to sleep in peace without Dean either standing over him or waking him up, all in all, since leaving hospital over a week and a half ago, Sam hadn't slept through the night; and neither had Dean.

Tonight was no exception. Only this time it hadn't been Dean sitting on his bed waking him up and then asking him if he was ok. Sam had woken up all by himself.

It was the oddest feeling in the world, but Sam could have sworn that there was something standing over him when he'd snapped awake. He wouldn't ever admit it to Dean, but it had scared him. Scared him so much that he'd snuck into Dean's room to make sure his elder brother was ok.

Then, with his body crying out for him to sit down, he'd picked up the shot gun, which was by the entrance of the apartment and did a sweep of the place. Normally a general sweep would take all of five minutes, but in the condition Sam was in, it had taken close to thirty-five minutes.

Of course to wind Sam up further he hadn't found anything, but just to be on the safe side, he'd taken the salt drum from the kitchen and drawn a line right outside Dean's bed room door, headed out the veranda, down the stairs and straight onto the beach.

Sam shook his head, his chin now resting on his knees. Something had really rattled Dean; it was the only explanation to his behaviour.

…_Maybe me being in a coma had a bigger impact on him than I thought it did…_Sam considered as he stared out at the dark sea, the stars dancing in the sky above_…..Maybe I'm being over critical, I mean there's nothing wrong with Dean being nice to me…._

Sam shook his head, which only annoyed him further when the pain rocketed around his head.

…_.But he's not being nice to me, he's spoiling me, letting me do what I want, never arguing with me, constantly checking up on me……_Sam said with a sigh_….This isn't Dean, this isn't my Dean. This is someone who is too scared to let me in, it's like he's scared of something I might…._

Sam slowly raised his head, an idea forming in his mind that he hadn't considered.

…_He's scared of something I might do…. _Sam realised as he heard movement behind him.

Glancing over he watched as Dean trudged over in shorts and a t-shirt and flopped down beside him in the sand.

" Thought you didn't do shorts..?" Sam said with a smile.

" Thought your didn't do midnight walkabouts by yourself…" Dean said trying to keep the scolding out of his voice. " I thought we talked about this Sammy, you don't take off without asking me…"

Sam's eyes narrowed.

" You were asleep…" Sam pointed out, " Besides Dean, I'm twenty-three not three…"

" Don't argue with me.." Dean said with a cheeky grin, " Besides, I have a right to ask…"

" You mean panic..?" Sam muttered, which earned him a dirty look from his elder brother.

" You sneak out the house and draw a line of salt around my bedroom door.." Dean pointed out as he plunked aimlessly at the blades of grass, " And what, you expect me not to question you at all…?"

" It was nothing…" Sam said with a shrug, " I was just being over protective…"

" Yeah well, I can look after myself…" Dean said with a sniff," If anyone needs to have a ring of salt around them, it's you…"

" Oh right, why don't you just embalm me in the stuff Dean…" Sam said as he allowed his legs to drop to the side.

In the darkness he never saw the look that crossed his brother's face. Sam however noticed the silence.

" Dude it was a joke…" Sam said slowly standing up and brushing the sand off his backside. " You know, ha ha…"

Dean slowly stood up, the sudden sickening feeling not shaking from his stomach. Sam stared at him strangely.

" You ok..?" Sam asked as Dean turned back towards the house.

" You know nothing can get into the beach house, Sam…" Dean muttered trudging off into the direction of their current home. " Not with the amount of talismans we have around the place…"

Sam walked behind his brother quietly, his mind busy.

It was now official.

Dean Winchester's behaviour had just surpassed odd. It was now into the section of just plain weird.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam watched as Dean shuffled into his room, muttering something under his breath about the salt and quietly closed his bedroom door.

After returning the loaded shot gun back to its new home by the front door, and without Dean knowing, re-salting the entrance to his brother's room, Sam retreated back to his own room.

Sitting on the bed, he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath; he could feel the headache trying to push its evil way through to the surface. Deciding that prevention was better than cure; Sam firstly snapped on his bed side light and then leaned across his bed and opened his bed side draw. Inside, he took out a small yellow bottle, removed the cap off it and tipped out two of the little blue pills. Picking up the glass of water by his bedside, he downed the pills and tossed the bottle back into the draw. Hopefully, they'd take effect and block out the pain, after all that was the job of painkillers, to kill pain.

Sighing, he switched the light back off and lay on his side, wondering about Dean's behaviour. Something was very odd about Dean.

His last thought before he entered the domain of sleep was that of Dean's reaction to his joke about the embalmment, and the rather stifling silence that had followed from his brother...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester's eyes snapped open.

He could feel the stifling sense that someone was watching him, watching him sleep.

Sitting up rapidly, his tired eyes became alert as he hurriedly scanned the room for the intruder.

He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there, he could sense its eyes borating into his soul.

Steadily, Sam got up and suddenly found his body unwilling to co-operate. In a heap, Sam found himself clinging onto the bed, frightened to why his legs would refuse to stand.

Forcing himself with every ounce of strength he had, he grabbed the head board of his bed and strained himself to stand up. His legs shaking, his breathing laboured, he realised that whatever was in the room with him had left.

Sighing out loud, Sam slowly headed for the bathroom, suddenly anywhere seemed like a better idea than his bedroom.

Opening his bedroom door silently, he slipped out as quietly as he could, but as Sam was beginning to realise, he was finding it increasingly hard to stay upright. Leaning heavily against the wall, Sam's eyes protectively fell to Dean's room on the other side of the living room.

At least the line of salt still remained in place.

_...No he needs rest..._ Sam thought, as he decided to let his elder brother sleep instead of disturbing him with even more nonsense.

Sam wondered into the bathroom, and switched the light on. Walking slowly towards the sink, he tiredly turned the cold tap on and watched the water run steadily into the sink hole. Finally tucking his hands under the taps he slowly splashed the icy water onto his face, hoping that the harsh feeling of the water would help clear his foggy head.

Raising his head slowly, he locked eyes with his reflection in the small medicine cabinet.

In the mirror, Sam winced at the person staring back at him; it didn't even resemble Sam. The person in the mirror looked exhausted, weak, and extremely thin. Sam sighed, he'd lost a hell of a lot of weight and the weakness that seemed to be crippling his body was refusing to leave. Dean had told him he had to take it easy and give it time for his body to start to recover; however Sam had had no idea that after almost two weeks he'd still be feeling as terrible as he did.

Closing his shattered eyes Sam inhaled deeply trying to steady his constantly fraying nerves. Opening his eyes and staring at his reflection, a gasp had barely left Sam's mouth before he turned around.

They were another set of eyes staring at him through the mirror.

Shaking vigorously, the owner of the eyes stared a hole through him, scaring him to the very pit of his stomach.

Its dark crimson eyes stared at Sam, its black fog-like body wafted around the bathroom angrily, sinister and determined.

Sam stared, no words leaving his mouth, he was stranded, his voice deceiving him, too stunned to call for any help.

" He's the key..." The spirit whispered, its evil black form dancing seductively around Sam. Sam could feel the spirit brushing against him as it wafted around the bathroom.

" He's the key to you..." The spirit hissed in Sam's ear.

Everything suddenly became clear to Sam. The dreams, the feelings, the warning; they'd all been real.

Every single one of them.

Before his hands could even move towards the door to try to get to Dean, Sam felt a bright light explode behind his right eye.

Then everything faded into an inky black...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**And so the rollercoaster begins again. Hope you enjoyed the opening to the story and stick around to see what happens to the boys. Please read and review ! Next update should be Sunday, life and net allowing. Xxx**


	2. Freaks

**Well it's Sunday, which means update time ! First of all thanks to all those who sent me a review; each and everyone is always appreciated. Now after reading this chapter, I promise you that the coincidences inside of it are just plain flukes! This chapter was written all the way back in July:o)**

**Thanks for reading and your words of encouragement !**

**On with Freaks…**

Chapter Two- Freaks

Sam shuffled into the living room the following morning, to find Dean sitting at the small kitchen table, a bowl of cereal in his hand laughing loudly at the small TV that was in the kitchenette area. On seeing Sam, Dean sent him a smile, which was never returned.

Instead Sam gave him a wave and went to the kitchen sink, his back now turned to Dean.

"Want some breakfast..?" Dean mumbled, "I got cereal in, and some bread…"

Sam picked up the cereal box that sat next to the sink and studied it with a sniff,

"Lucky Charms..?" Sam asked raising an eyebrow as he kept his back to Dean, "Do you have any idea how much sugar is in this stuff..?"

"Come on Sammy, I'm a big boy.." Dean said a grin, "I'm a bit past the whole cavity scenario.."

"The marshmallows alone could rot your teeth and your mind..." Sam said with a click of his tongue as he placed the box back onto the counter.

"I think my mind is already rotten and I don't have any problems with my teeth thank you very much..." Dean said sending his brother's back a toothy smile, "See these teeth, a million dollar smile my friend..."

"Is that what your dentist told you…?" Sam said with a sniff.

"I don't do dentists..." Dean muttered, "Having someone else's hands running around my mouth with rubbery latex gloves…" Dean said with a shudder, "I can't think of anything more inhumane..."

"Ever had a toothache…?" Sam said with a small smile, "Now that is inhumane.."

Dean studied his brother's back, and made a face.

"You sleep ok last night..?" Dean asked as he listened to his brother's voice.

"On and off.." Sam said with a shrug, "You..?"

"Like a log…" Dean admitted, as he placed the bowl on the table and stood up, the chair nosily scratching on the beech coloured wooden floor. "You were busy last night though…"

"Huh..?" Sam asked in an innocent voice as he took a glass from the drainer and filled with water from the tap, he carefully turned his body away from Dean as his elder brother came towards him.

"Well, I stepped in salt again this morning…" Dean said with a nod, "Imagine my surprise when I find it on every window and door to the apartment…"

Sam chuckled nervously and walked away from Dean and back through the living room and onto the veranda. Sam stood leaning against the rails staring at the beautiful view in front of him. Sam groaned when he heard Dean open the sliding door.

"Dude, I was having a conversation with you in there…" Dean muttered as he placed his mug of coffee down on the small table and chair set outside. "What's with the salt Sam..?"

"Just being cautious Dean…" Sam said never looking at elder brother, his eyes staring at the ocean, his back continuously to his older brother.

"Cautious…?" Dean said with a sniff, "You're like a blasted sodium freak..!"

"It doesn't hurt being prepared…" Sam said his voice vacant as he sighed.

Dean stared at his brother's back.

What the heck was Sam up to..?

"So ermm, what are your plans today..?" Sam asked never looking over at Dean, "Anything interesting..."

A smile broke on Dean's handsome face, a twinkle appearing in his hazel green eyes, "It's funny you should mention that, cause I do have something fun lined up.."

"Like what..?" Sam asked as he hunched over the balcony.

"Well, there's a carnival Sammy, with get this…" Dean said coming over to Sam now so he could see his brother's reaction. "With a real freak show..!"

"What..?" Sam muttered as he rubbed the sides of his aching head.

"I know I could barely believe it when I read it on the flyer…" Dean rambled, "I mean we got to go to it, just to see it, and the best part, I won't even bring a shot gun with me; that's what you call a vacation..!"

"Sounds interesting.." Sam said with a sigh, "But..-"

"Don't worry I got everything planned out for us, given us little missions…" Dean said laughing, "You got to get the number of the bearded lady, and I'm gonna try and get a number from a trapezes..."

"Dean, it sounds great…" Sam admitted, "But I was kind of hoping that, I could take it easy today…"

"Oh.." Dean said trying to hide his disappointment, "Maybe we can go tomorrow or so.."

"Dean it's your vacation as well, there's no reason you should miss out..." Sam said as Dean gave his brother a funny look, "Just call it our day off from each other…"

"You're serious aren't you..?" Dean said as he watched Sam shuffle away from him on the deck, and suddenly it dawned on Dean.

"Sam..?" Dean called as he stood there with his hands on his hips. "Sammy..?"

"Why do you always insist on calling me that…?" Sam muttered as he kept his back turned.

"Because I've noticed lately it seems to have the desired effect on you…" Dean said walking up to him and watching as Sam concealed his face again. "It seems to piss you off…"

"Congratulations…" Sam muttered, "Glad you're enjoying yourself.."

"Look at me..." Dean said in a flat tone.

"Dude, what is wrong with you…" Sam said squinting in the sun, "I think I'm gonna see if I can catch up on some sleep…"

"Rough night last night…?" Dean asked as he cornered Sam by the steps and grabbed his wrist. Dean stared down at his brother's limp wrist in his; he was stunned at the fact that he could wrap his hand around the entire width of Sam's wrist. Swallowing at how frail Sam was becoming he yanked his little brother to face him.

"I said...-"Dean never finished the sentence as he finally laid eyes on his brother's face for the first time that morning. "What the hell happened..?"

Sam swallowed nervously, pulled his hand away from Dean's and hurried back into the living room. Dean flew in agitated behind him, nosily closing back the sliding door.

"Sammy..?" Dean snapped as he cut his brother off, who was promptly trying to get to his room. Instead Dean grabbed him by his shoulders and guided him back to the sofa.

Defeated Sam crumpled into the sofa, with Dean hovering over him.

"Did you think you could hide it from me all day..?" Dean demanded as he angrily dragged the coffee table in front of the sofa and sat down on it.

He then held Sam's face steady in his hand and prodded the huge gash just at the side of Sam's face. His entire right eye was black and blue and the bruising made Dean's stomach twist. As Dean poked at the bruising and cut, Sam winced at Dean's probing fingers.

"Did you really think you could hide that from me..?" Dean demanded, as he looked heatedly at Sam.

"At least until tonight…" Sam said in a feeble voice.

"Why tonight…?" Dean asked in a confused tone.

"It would be dark…" Sam said in an innocent naïve tone.

"God, you're an idiot…" Dean said as he got to his feet and poured some hot water from the kettle into a bowl and with a clean t-cloth headed back to Sam who was curled up on the sofa.

"When did this happen? How did it happen…?" Dean asked, trying to calm his agitated voice down.

He couldn't understand it. How Sam could have got hurt while he was still in the house; he was supposed to be looking after him. The idea that he'd already messed up was screwing with Dean's head.

"Last night…" Sam said as he sat up to take the cloth from Dean's hand. Instead Dean clamped the hot compact on Sam's face himself. " I must have slipped or something…" Sam said with half a smile.

"Slipped..? Where exactly..?" Dean asked having calmed down a decibel.

"Bathroom…" Sam explained, "When I woke up, I just felt like my head was gonna explode, I didn't even look in the mirror…"

Dean's hand fell from Sam's face.

"You knocked yourself out..?" Dean asked in a deadpan tone, "You knocked yourself out and you weren't gonna tell me..?"

"I'm telling you now, besides what's the big deal, I'm clumsy and stupid…" Sam muttered taking the cloth from Dean, "And the real reason why I didn't tell, was to avoid this, and that…"

"What..?" Dean asked shaking his head.

"This whole weird conversation where you get all paternal on me and then you get that look on your face…" Sam muttered with a sigh.

"What look, I don't have a look on my face..!" Dean snapped as he stalked around the room.

"I just didn't want to ruin your day, guess I couldn't even do that right…" Sam said with an unhappy chuckle.

"Is that why you didn't want to the carnival..?" Dean asked as he scrubbed his face with his hands, "Because you thought I'd see that..?"

"Maybe, but I am really tried Dean…" Sam admitted, "I don't know, maybe everything that's happened in the last few weeks is just catching up on me.."

"No you're right, I shouldn't be pushing you…" Dean admitted, "But Sam, we got to get something clear…"

"What…?" Sam said closing his eyes as he lay on the sofa.

"You can't keep things from me…" Dean said flatly, "Knocking yourself out, it's not even an option Sam…"

"What do you mean..?" Sam asked curiously, " I know it was stupid not telling you, but things like this are gonna happen…"

"Not while I'm here they're not.." Dean said plainly, "You have to get better Sam, this hunting, this life we've got, we have to put it aside for a while..."

"You really my brother..?" Sam said with a chuckle which only made Dean more frustrated. "Cause my Dean, there's nothing more important to him than hunting…"

"Yeah, well, not anymore…" Dean said with a sigh, "Look, the truth is, you had a brain haemorrhage that blew your ass into a coma, you're sick and you need rest. Any bashes to the head Sam, it could cause a relapse, and..-"

"Ok…" Sam said with a nod, "It was stupid, I should have told you, I'm sorry…"

"Good…" Dean said with a nod as he came and sat back down in front of Sam. "Now are you going to tell me about what really happened to you, and what's with all the salt; and don't give me that crap about you slipping in the bathroom…"

Sam gave his brother his most genuine smile.

"Really Dean, I slipped…" Sam said with a rueful nod, " The medication makes me feel a little odd at times, I'd just taken a couple of tablets and they made me feel a bit out of it…"

"Humm..." Dean said with a sniff not knowing whether to believe him or not, "And the salt…?"

"Like I said last night, just being over cautious…" Sam said smiling at Dean again. "Come on; nothing wrong with that now is it..?"

"No, I guess not…" Dean said with a suspicious look as he studied Sam's face. "Look, you'd tell me if something was going on right..?"

"Same way you were supposed to tell me about what was going on at the hospital..?" Sam countered which obviously rattled Dean.

"That's not even funny Sam…" Dean muttered as he got off the coffee table and walked into the kitchen.

"Neither is you keeping secrets from me..?" Sam said simply.

"Oh so I get it…" Dean said angrily, "You won't tell me what's going on, until I tell you what happened..?"

"Well I wasn't gonna go for the whole trade deal with you, but yeah, you tell me, and I'll tell you…" Sam said with a nod, which Dean cringed at.

"So you are lying…?" Dean said hotly, " Something did happen last night, and that boxer like skid mark you got plastered on your face didn't happen by you just slipping, something did that..?"

"Now that is one big dose of paranoia there Deanie…" Sam said with a teasing smile. "I never said anything happened…"

"I'm not having this conversation with you…." Dean muttered angrily as he walked towards his bedroom, "You want to act like a friggin jerk Sam, then go right ahead…"

Sam chewed his bottom lip in annoyance as he heard Dean muttering under his breath as he rattled around his room.

"What time does the circus start..?" Sam asked as he eased himself off the sofa, knowing that Dean was mad at him." I don't ever think we've been to the circus, have we..?"

"Not for fun at least…" Dean mused as he sat on his bed, "Last time we went, I was about eleven and dad was hunting a shape shifter…" Dean said with a nod, "You got ratty cause dad wouldn't let you pet the tigers..."

"Too busy wanting to shoot a hole thought something huh..?" Sam said with a chuckle, "What do you remember..?"

"That I fed my cotton candy to an elephant…" Dean said with a grin, "Then dad went berserk because he wanted to know how I got near the elephant and where I got the cotton candy came from…"

Sam laughed, "Where did you get the candy from..?"

"I don't even remember..." Dean said with a shrug, "Must have nicked it…"

"Dad said he'd never ever take us back to the circus for as long as he lived…" Sam said with a grin, "He said that about a lot of places…"

"Yup…" Dean said with a nod as he counted them off his fingers, "Zoos, malls, fairs, amusement parks…"

"We must have been two funny kids for him to raise…" Sam said musing at the memory.

"I was funny; you were just funny looking…" Dean said with a grin.

"What time does it start..?" Sam asked again as he lent against Dean's door frame.

"Circus acts start at 2pm…." Dean said quietly.

"Well, its only 10am now…" Sam said with a nod, "I'll try and grab some sleep now, and maybe we can head off…"

"You're still not gonna tell me what happened last night are you..?" Dean asked stubbornly, "Cause I'm supposed to be protecting you…"

"Where did you get that idea from..?" Sam asked with a curious look.

" It's just the way things are, big brother's take care of the little ones…" Dean said pointedly.

"Must have not got that memo in the mail..." Sam said with a grin, which only seemed to annoy Dean further. "Look, if you're busy trying to protect me, then who is looking after you…?"

"I don't need protecting, me, I can look after myself…" Dean said hotly.

"Let's just leave it ok…" Sam said with a sigh, "We take care of each other, that's enough isn't it….?"

"Oh God, kill me now…" Dean muttered rolling his eyes, "Those meds have got you in one sloppy girly ass mood you know that…"

"Yeah, I know.." Sam said with a shrug, "But I got your back, I just want you to know that…"

"Sammy, the idea of you trying to look out for me, fills me with terror…" Dean said trying not to laugh, "No offence, but a poodle could kick your ass right now..."

"Ha ha…" Sam said with a sniff, "Mock me now, but you'll be grateful one of these days…"

"I bet I will…" Dean said a laugh, as Sam walked away from the door as Dean muttered something about the poodle.

"I'm gonna lie down, yell if you need me…" Sam said as he shuffled into the living room and towards his bedroom.

"Just get some rest; the bearded lady is quite fussy these days you know Sammy..." Dean said laughing as he stood in the doorway to his room. "What do say about freaks attracting freaks…?"

"You, are calling me, a freak…?" Sam said laughing, "Dude take a look in the mirror…"

"I'm a semi-freak…" Dean argued as Sam flicked him his middle finger and disappeared into his room. "You, dude you're a total freak…"

Laughing as Sam closed his bedroom door; Dean flopped back down onto the sofa and switched on the main TV set. Channel surfing and finally stopping at the cartoon channel, Dean grinned as he watched a classic 'Bugs Bunny' cartoon.

"Freaks…" Dean muttered with a smile. "The guys a jackass…"

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam stood rigid in his room. His eyes trying to take in what he was seeing.

Everything in his room had been moved about. Everything.

The bed was on the wrong side of the room, the cupboard was now on the opposite side, the desk now facing the wrong direction.

His breathing hitched as he walked towards the bed and peeped under it. The knife he had under it was gone.

Grabbing the handle to the bedroom door he had just entered and promptly found himself walking into the closet.

"What the hell is going on..?" Sam whispered out loud.

"**He hates you….He hates you so much…..You're a burden to him…."**

Sam spun around, he could hear the voice as clear as day. Shaking, Sam's hand reached for the side draw and slowly he pulled his sickle from it.

"Come out you son-of-a-bitch…" Sam whispered, his eyes scanning the room, his head swimming with the lack of co-ordination he felt.

"**You slow him down….Make him angry……You're a pitiful excuse…."**

"This is crazy…" Sam whispered as he moved towards the door, his hand scrambling for his bedroom door.

"**It's not crazy Sam….It's just the truth…..Dean hates you….Now that's the truth….."**

Sam yanked open his bedroom door, with such a force it made Dean jump. Dean scrambled to his feet.

With confused hazel green eyes, Dean watched Sam backing out his room, his knife drawn, and his little brother's eyes wild.

"Sammy..?" Dean asked in a slow voice, his own hand looking for a weapon, unsure of what to expect but knowing to expect something.

"**He wished you died instead…..He wished you stayed dead….He wants you gone….He wants you to suffer for what you've done…."**

Sam whirled around at the sound of the voice, but saw nothing but empty air and Dean standing there with a puzzled look on his face.

"Why are you saying these things…?" Sam asked looking at Dean, a hurt look on his face.

"**You killed his mother….."**

"Sam..?" Dean asked in a confused tone, as he took a step closer towards his brother, "Who are you talking to…?"

"I didn't kill her…" Sam asked as he shook his head, his left hand rubbed the side of his head.

"**You deserve to die……And he will make sure of it…"**

Sam's eyes widened as he stood staring at Dean's advancing form.

"Dude who didn't you kill, what's wrong with you…?" Dean demanded as he kept walking slowly to Sam.

The black wisp danced menacingly behind Dean, its eyes bright and evil as it focused on Sam.

"**Say bye bye Sammy…."**

"No….!" Sam shouted causing Dean to freeze in horror.

With the knife arched in Sam's hands, he swung it like a boomerang and let go.

Right into Dean's path…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**phew Looks like Sam and Dean have got their hands full, you got to feel for Sam, the boy just can't cut a break. Thanks for reading and please leave a review if possible. Update: Wednesday.**


	3. Think Tank

**It's Wednesday, which means it's update day ! Firstly can I once again say thanks to all of you who have posted reviews. It's very humbling reading your words and all I can say is thank you. It's totally freaky how accurate some of you are with the points you've raised. Glad you found the whole bearded lady and circus thing ironic, because I sure as hell did when I saw ELaC.**

**Enough chit-chat from me though. Hope you continue to enjoy this story and journey I'm taking the boys on.**

**On with 'Think Tank'.**

Chapter Three- Think Tank

"Sam..!" Dean snapped as he hit the floor as quickly as he could. Sam's sickle crashed loudly into the kitchen. "What the hell is wrong with you…?"

Shaking violently, Sam Winchester's hazel eyes stared at the place the spirit had been moving. The knife had gone straight through the mystical form, which had then promptly disappeared.

It didn't matter though; it hadn't hurt Dean.

"Sam..!" Dean shouted, glancing hurriedly in the direction of where his little brother's eyes seemed trained. "Talk to me Sammy..?"

"It's gone…" Sam said finally breathing, his body shaking as exhaustion ploughed into him. It took every ounce of strength not to collapse exactly where he was standing. Instead he simply sank onto the floor and lent against the wall, his open bedroom door beside him.

Dean crawled over to him and stared at his brother.

"Dude, if you wanted my attention away from the cartoons, throwing a sickle at me.." Dean said with a nervous smile, "That's not how you do it…"

"There was a thing behind you…" Sam said in a drained voice, his head leaning back against the wall, his dark brown hair falling off his face. "It was gonna hurt you…"

"Well, urm, thanks, I think…" Dean said sitting up on his knees and giving his brother the once over. His hand reached forward and touched his brother's forehead. A worried expression quickly appeared on Dean's face.

"You're burning up…" Dean whispered, as he stretched a hand out. "Come on, I'm gonna get you to bed…"

"Humm, the wise ass answer I could give off to that sentence…" Sam said with a sheepish grin, as he allowed Dean to help him stand. He was too tired to protest anyway.

"You should be flattered, deadly flattered…" Dean muttered as he looped Sam's arm around his shoulders. "Most girls would jump at the chance to get me into bed..."

"You didn't even buy me dinner you cheap bastard…" Sam said with a giggle as Dean found himself laughing as well.

"I could so say something about dessert and seconds here…" Dean said stifling a laugh, "But this conversation is weird enough…"

Sam leaned tiredly on Dean, his head bumping lightly against his brother's. Dean gave him a funny look as he eased Sam towards his own bedroom. Sam however reeled back.

"I'm not going back in there…" Sam said in a tired tone.

"Oh, ok, why..?" Dean said sarcastic tone to his voice, as he guided Sam over to the sofa and eased him down on it.

"Are you kidding, that thing screwed with my room…" Sam said as he curled up on the comfy sofa. "Everything is in all the wrong places..."

Dean gave his brother a quizzical look, and walked over towards Sam's bedroom. Slowly, he poked his head in it and took in the appearance. With a wrinkled look on his face, Dean glanced back at Sam whose head was poking over the sofa.

"Dude am I missing something…?" Dean asked in a worried tone.

"You see it to..?" Sam whispered his voice barely audible, almost child like. "It's freaking me out…"

"Sam…" Dean said, his eyebrows raised as he slowly walked back towards his brother, "Exactly what did you see..?"

"It switched the entire…" Sam started to explain but seeing Dean shaking his head furiously, Sam scrambled to his feet and hurried tiredly towards his room.

He lent heavily against the door frame as he stared into his room.

It was in the exact same condition Sam had left it in the very same morning.

Panicking, Sam looked at Dean. Dean tried his most innocent face on Sam.

"You're tired that's all…" Dean said simply, "You just need...-"

"Don't you dare patronize me; I know what I saw…!" Sam yelled, "Everything was in the wrong place, the entire bed had moved to the other side, it was all re-arranged..!"

"Sam, I know…" Dean said with a chuckle, "You're right, it's my mistake. Tell you what, you tell me exactly what happened…"

"You believe me..?" Sam whispered as he looked again into the room, "Cause I know, from that, it makes me look crazy, but I'm not…"

"I never said you were crazy…" Dean said with a grin, as he pointed back to the sofa, "Now go and take a seat over there, and I'll be right back…"

"Where are you going..?" Sam demanded, worrying seeping in, "You're leaving aren't you..?"

"No, don't be ridiculous…" Dean said with a shake of his head, "I'm gonna get the book from the car, maybe there is something in there to help find this spirit of yours…"

"Ok, I'll hit the laptop, I'll see if I can find anything about this area we're in…" Sam said already trying to sit up. Dean's hand however gave him a gentle shove down.

"The only thing you'll hit is you face on that cushion…" Dean said his hand still on his brother's head, "You're burning up as it is. Have you taken your medication this morning..?"

"Half of it…" Sam admitted, "I don't like how they make me feel, it's like I'm not in control of my own body…"

"Sammy, you can't just take half of the meds, they have to work together…" Dean explained, as he saw the crushed look on Sam's face, "Don't give me that look Sam..."

"I'm fine Dean; I don't need to take the full dosage…" Sam pleaded, "I won't even be able to move with the amount of pills wondering through my blood…"

"Just rest, I'll be right back…" Dean said with a sigh.

Sam nodded quietly and placed his fluffy filled head onto the pillow. Dean paused in the doorway and gave his quiet little brother a look.

"Do me a little favour though, while I'm gone..." Dean said with a smile, "Don't play with anything sharp..."

Sam simply flicked his middle finger up at Dean from the sofa and kept his eyes closed as he felt the tiredness creep into his soul.

Dean shook his head as he left the apartment, considering Sam had been so scared all over ten minutes ago, he still seemed to have his sense of humour running around.

That was a good sign; it meant that Sam was trying to not let the situation get to him.

To Dean, that was one huge plus point, because the situation was beginning to get to Dean...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean descended down the steps of the apartment and headed for his black 1967 Chevy Impala. It was a beautiful sight and Dean never got bored with looking at the gorgeous girl of his.

Parked under the house, Dean opened the beauty up, popped the trunk and begun to root around inside for the Key of Solomon. The ancient book had been given to the boys a couple of months back by one of their father's old hunter buddies Bobby. The older man had suggested that the boys might need it for future hunts, and the little Dean had flicked through it, he'd already gathered that the old book was filled with demonic namings, rituals, remedies, legends, traps and of course exorcisms.

This however was the first time Dean would actually go through the book, looking for something in particular. If it hadn't just spooked the hell out of Sam, Dean might have actually been excited.

Ok, so hunting wasn't top of the agenda anymore. Dean knew that, understood it, in fact he'd been the one who'd given the order himself. Too many painful feelings for Dean to deal with at the moment. Too many unresolved feelings towards his father and this whole hunting game that he'd been thrown into.

John Winchester was gone, taken off somewhere and to Dean, it was worse than the first time he'd left him. At least they'd been some grainy phone message saying that he'd gone hunting.

None this time.

John had left his sons after the car crash, while they were still badly injured in hospital. Dean had come round to find that his father was gone, but to make matters worse his little brother was fighting for his life.

A blood clot had burst in his brain; his little Sammy had suffered a massive brain haemorrhage. Dean had been stunned to learn from the doctors that the reason Sam was in the condition he was because of the movements he'd triggered after the crash. Instead of staying still, the younger Winchester had got out the car and called for help. That had released the blood clot from his chest and allowed it to travel to his unsuspecting brain.

What had angered Dean more was learning that Sam's brave actions had actually saved not only his life but his father's. Dean had lost a lot of blood, and needed medical attention; Sam's actions had saved all of them, but cost him dearly.

Sam had died.

Right there, in the hospital, Dean by his side too shocked to believe what was taking place, too scared to admit that his little brother was dead. It had taken several minutes of Sam being in the middle of cardiac arrest for Dean to snap alive. He'd cried his heart out, collapsing at his brother's side when he'd heard Sam's kind doctor call his time of death.

Dean stared at the weapons in the trunk of the Impala. Just the thought of it made Dean's breathing hitch in his chest, the cold sensation running through his whole body.

Then something had sent Sammy back. Not something good. Something evil.

It had sent his little brother back, and up to this very moment, Dean hadn't questioned what had sent Sammy back, he'd just been beyond grateful that Sam was alive and still with him.

Dean swallowed at the idea of losing Sam. It just didn't bare thinking about. It didn't. To feel that sense of loss, to feel that huge amount of emptiness. To feel that alone, that scared, that terrified was something Dean was never ever willing to experience again.

He was twenty seven years old, and for the first time in over twenty years, Dean didn't want to think about evil or hunting.

The only thing in Dean's mind was getting Sammy better.

It was the only thing that mattered.

He'd taken Sam from the hospital, never explaining why.

Dean knew why, heck part of him even understood why the doctors were so intrigued over his little brother. Sam had come back from the dead. That's all the doctors saw, they wanted to understand the science, see if there was a way to help others survive.

Well, that was the way Sam's doctor, Dr. David Kessin had seen it. Dean had liked Sam's doctor; he'd been kind and helpful to Dean when Dean was on the verge of a nervous break down. Not like the other doctor that had plagued Dean the whole time he'd been conscious, his own doctor, Dr. Andrew Wallis. He'd only seen Sam as his chance of fame and fortune, and Dean swore to himself that neither he nor any member of his family was going to be Dr. Wallis' gravy train.

Dean knew at some level that Dr. Kessin had expected Dean to grab Sam and get out the hospital before any tests or specialists could get near Sam.

That, Dean would be grateful to the doctor for, for a long time.

Now however, something was spooking his brother, and that bothered Dean greatly for two simple reasons. Why is it that only Sam could see it, and perhaps more importantly, what did this spirit thing want..?

Dean quietly closed the trunk back, locked it with the keys and then gave the lid a gentle pat.

"You enjoy your vacation as well..." Dean said with a grin as he headed towards the steps with the Key of Solomon tucked under his arm.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester quietly stood in the entrance of his bedroom. He could feel an uneasy feeling beginning to settle into his stomach. He could have sworn on his life that his bedroom had been in complete disarray less than twenty minutes ago and now, now it looked like it had been a figment of Sam's exhausted imagination.

Sam sighed; it was no doubt what Dean was thinking too.

He'd seen that pitiful look Dean had given him and it made Sam angry. Dean didn't have any right to take pity on him, he wasn't crazy, tired yes perhaps, but defiantly not crazy.

At least that's what Sam thought.

Shuffling back into the living room, he found himself startled involuntary when the door to the apartment opened.

Sam heaved in a shaky breath on seeing it was just Dean returning. Dean's eyes however narrowed as soon as they landed on Sam.

"Didn't I tell you to get some rest..?" Dean muttered, "Then again when did you ever do anything I tell you..?"

"I'm too wired to sleep..." Sam said in an agitated tone as he sat down on the sofa awkwardly.

"I never mentioned the words sleep, I said rest..." Dean said sternly, "Now dude, just do as your told for once in your life.."

"Did you find it..?" Sam asked as he spotted the Key of Solomon under Dean's arm.

"Haven't looked yet..." Dean admitted as he placed the book on the other sofa and glanced at Sam, "Sammy, look, you're burning up...

"I'm fine..." Sam lied, "Really, I am..."

"Dude, you look like someone rubbed oil all over your friggin skin; you're glowing and not in the happy pregnancy kind of way, or in the sexy play-dude kind of way either..." Dean said with a grin, " Come on man, I get that you're a little spooked..."

"I'm not scared..." Sam said defensively, "Look, I just want to find this thing and kick its ass..."

"If it's a spirit it won't have an ass..." Dean said with a grin.

"Don't be a wise, erm, ass..." Sam muttered as he lent back into the sofa and allowed his head to flop back.

"I can't help it if my ass is wise..." Dean said with a wicked smile which earned him a sofa cushion in the face from Sam.

"Did you find anything on the laptop...?" Dean asked glancing over at Sam.

"You trying to be funny..?" Sam said in a pointed tone as he shot his hazel eyes in the direction of his brother. "How can I look this thing up if you hide the laptop from me..."

"I haven't hid...-" Dean started to say his face flushed in surprise, Sam however looked angry.

"Don't look at me like that..." Sam snapped, "You're treating me like I'm some sort of freakin fragile goods or something.."

"Whoa, now hold on there Sammy..." Dean said shooting his brother an annoyed look, "The only reason I'm treating you with a bit of care and attention is because you're not exactly top of your game..."

"**Then again, you were always weak and pathetic..."**

"What the hell did you just say...?" Sam demanded looking angry at Dean, his eyes ablaze.

Dean's hazel green eyes locked with Sam's livid hazel ones. Something wasn't right here, not right at all.

"I said you're not exactly yourself at the moment, what with the crash and everything, it's gonna take a while..." Dean said trying to calm his voice down, realising that Sam was unusually angry.

"Why did you hide the laptop from me...?" Sam asked in a smaller voice, "I just want to help find this thing..."

Dean gave Sam a quizzical look, walked over to the small table in the kitchenette and returned with the laptop in his hand which he promptly placed on the coffee table.

The look on Sam's face said it all.

It was a picture. A Kodak moment.

Sam's confused eyes looked slowly up at Dean; his hand's stretching out to touch the computer, almost as if he didn't believe it was really there.

Dean stared at Sam with a confused look of his own. His baby brother's behaviour was bizarre, even for Winchester standards.

"I checked the entire apartment, Dean..." Sam whispered, "I checked it over and over again..."

"Look...-" Dean said scratching his head. He was beginning to run out of things to say; at least things that wouldn't result in an argument with Sammy.

"No…" Sam said holding up a hand and cutting Dean off mid-sentence, "I swear to you Dean, I combed this place, every inch of it and that, that was not there..."

"Ok..." Dean said with a heavy sigh as he knelt down in front of an obviously very agitated Sam.

"I swear to you Dean it wasn't there, it wasn't..." Sam repeated.

"**Like I believe a word you're telling me...You're just a traitor..."**

Sam stared into Dean's eyes.

"Please don't say things like that..." Sam whispered, "I know, I'm not making any sense..."

Dean wrinkled his nose and quickly stood up, his hunter instincts alert and on the prowl.

"This ghost of yours, spirit, whatever it is..." Dean mumbled, "Do you remember what it looked like..?"

Sam nodded his head glumly.

"Then start looking for it in the book..." Dean said as he picked up the laptop from the coffee table and headed towards the outside deck.

"You're going on the deck..?" Sam asked in a worried tone, "Isn't it safe inside..?"

"I think I'll take my chances..." Dean said with a grin, "It's a nice day anyway..."

Sam nodded glumly and looked back at the old book that sat on the coffee table.

"What will you be looking for..?" Sam asked cautiously, "You got any idea what this thing is..?"

"Not yet..." Dean said as he could see the defeated look on Sam's face, "But that won't last for very long..."

"We'll find this thing right..?" Sam said as he pulled the book now onto his lap and slowly turned the first page, "Because this thing, it needs to be stopped..."

Dean slowly stared at Sam, his little brother half if his former self, frailer, weaker and seriously not in any condition to take on any form of the supernatural.

"Don't worry Sammy, I'll find it and then I'll blow it away..." Dean said with a wide grin, "Winchester style…"

"Yeah well, you won't be doing this by yourself..." Sam said sending his brother a serious look, "And before you even bait another argument, I'm coming on this hunt, this thing isn't coming anywhere near you..."

Dean's mind raced, that was the second time today Sammy had used that phrase, and both times Sammy had sounded determined and every bit as angry as he looked.

"Sammy, I can look after myself..." Dean said with a sigh. He knew another argument wasn't coming.

"Yeah well tough, I'm watching your back…" Sam said stubbornly, "That's my job..."

"Yeah well, you got a new job, and it's called get your skinny ass better..." Dean said in a matter of fact style.

"Not washing with me Dean, I'm helping, coming, whatever..." Sam said in a pointed tone, "Just look like old times..."

Dean sucked in a breath. This just wasn't the time for another fight. There were more important things at stake here.

"Let's just try and find out what we're dealing with here, ok..?" Dean said opening the sliding door and slipping out.

"Perfectly fine by me..." Sam said as Dean disappeared from view.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Its spirit hovered above the two young men, its red eyes smouldering as it took in their emotions and fears.

It studied the eldest, the strongest, the warrior; the protector.

Its weakest link was the young man that sat inside glumly staring at a book, slowly considering the idea that deep down his elder brother hated him; despised him.

The eldest sat on a chair in the sun wondering if his little brother was slowly going mad, while looking for a ghostly spirit thing he was sure didn't exist.

The spirit smiled deeply, its evilness licking the pits of its stomach.

The plan was already at work.

And soon evil would reap its reward.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**(swallows) Anyone else worried..? Thanks for reading and if you get a chance please leave a review. See you all next update: Sunday**


	4. Tic Tacs

**(sighs) I know, I know, this update has been well overdue. I've had no internet access for over two weeks ! Ok, explanations aside, hopefully updates will run a little more smoothly, and a word of advice to anyone; when your virus protector runs out, make sure you actually renew it, cause guess what, it can a be a total and utter b!tch if you don't :o)**

**On a happier note, thank you kindly to the wonderful folk that left a review for me for chapter 3 (man that feels like such a long time), it's to those fantastic readers that I send this chapter to. Thanks so much for sticking by this story. Glad to hear that most people are enjoying the dynamics of my dysfunctional duo :o)**

**Well enough babble, from me, once again a big thank you to those who left me a review.**

**On with 'Tic Tacs'**

Chapter Four- Tic Tacs

Dean opened the sliding door and grinned when he saw his stubborn little brother curled up on the sofa in what seemed to be a very deep sleep.

As stubborn as Sammy was, there were just some things you couldn't fight; sleep obviously being one of them.

Quietly placing the lap top on the other sofa, Dean picked up the blanket, opened it and covered his brother as silently as he could.

Standing back the elder Winchester couldn't help but take in his little brother's appearance. Sam was anything but his normal self. Dean hadn't believed how much weight Sam had lost, but this morning when he'd grabbed his brother's hand and was able to get his whole wrist within his first finger and thumb; that had scared Dean.

Scared him enough to start to question what was really going on.

First Sam had a new black eye and bruising around the head this morning, then there was the salt from the night before; and now, this, this whole episode with a spirit Dean couldn't see any evidence of.

Of course Dean couldn't tell Sam that. The boy's confidence was near enough zero as it was, all that was needed to cause Sam to take that fatal step in front of a fast moving bus, would be for Dean to dismiss the idea of the spirit Sam had seen.

Sam would never admit it, but Dean knew that Sam blamed himself for their father taking off on this new hunt.

_...New hunt my ass..._ Dean thought as he walked into the kitchenette and spotted Sam's sickle lying amongst the dishes it had crashed into earlier today. Lying in pieces on the floor was a smashed plate.

Ok, so Dean knew he'd lied.

He'd lied big time.

But he didn't regret it.

He'd done it for the right reasons. At least that's what Dean kept telling himself. He had to, the day he admitted to himself that what he had done was wrong, was the day his house of cards came tumbling down around him.

Sam would find out the truth, Dean was pretty sure about that. Sam was too smart not to. Dean would cope with that the day when it came. Until then, Sam would just have to swallow that daddy dearest had gone off on a major hunt and left them with only each other for company.

Of course Dean didn't know the whole truth, just the bare ugly facts. He'd come around after a car crash and found his father had vanished without even a word.

Dean shook his head as he knelt down onto the lino cladded kitchen floor and begun to scoop up the broken blue plate.

" Hey..?" Came a sleepy voice from across the room, " Man, I got to stop doing that..."

" You're allowed to sleep Sam, at least for now..." Dean said with a wide grin, " I could always get bored and start making you stay awake for means of torture.."

Sam forced himself into a sitting position on the sofa. His head swam violently as he tried to get the feeling to subside. Sam held his nerve; he knew Dean was watching him, those green hawk-like hazel eyes never missing a beat when it came to him. Sometime it worried Sam that Dean was so worried about him. It often made Sam wonder what on earth it was that Dean was keeping from him. It worried Sam greatly.

" You feeling a bit better now..?" Dean asked gingerly, not really in a mood for another argument.

" That depends, you pick up anything on the demonic spirit..?" Sam asked his voice heavy with sleep.

It was bothering Sam that his head was still feeling so light, to the point where he had to lay back with his head against the sofa and close his eyes. The younger brother could only imagine the look Dean was shooting him, and for once Sam was grateful that he couldn't see Dean's face.

" Sammy..?" Dean asked tossing the broken plate straight into the trash and hurrying over to Sam's side. " What's the matter...?"

" Nothing..." Sam lied, never opening his eyes. He was feeling awful, a strange, unnerving feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, the nausea he could taste now coming in fits and bursts; a bitter taste lining his mouth.

" Sam..?" Dean asked again this time his voice stronger and more determined to hear an answer that actually made sense of the situation that he could see. It was a situation Dean didn't like the look of. Dean's hand reached out and touched his brother's forehead under a meek protest from Sam.

Dean yanked his hand back in surprise as he scrambled to his feet and headed for his room.

" You're burning up..." Dean said over his shoulder.

He returned seconds later with a small grey box in his hand. Sam's aching eyes opened slowly, simply because Dean was too quiet in his movements in front of him.

" What's that..?" Sam asked curiously as his tired ridden eyes forced themselves open.

" It's a thermometer..." Dean said giving Sam a funny look, " Dude you've seen one of these before..?"

" You're not putting that anywhere near me..." Sam muttered pulling the blanket over his head, in a feeble attempt at hiding.

" Ok, first of all, don't ever paint visuals like that in my head..." Dean muttered in a tight voice, " And secondly it goes in your ear, that way it saves me having nightmares of your ass..."

Sam's head peeked up over the blanket, and Dean couldn't help but see a very young looking Sam staring at him. He looked no more than possibly seventeen or eighteen.

" I feel fine..." Sam said quietly his voice more pleading than believing.

" Sorry dude, but I disagree..." Dean said tilt Sam's face to one side and placing the rounded point inside Sam's ear. " You look like shit.."

" Thanks..." Sam mumbled quietly as Dean removed the ear piece once a beep had been heard.

Sam watched Dean's eyes widen, followed by a whistle. Sam knew that wasn't a good sign.

" Told you I was fine.." Sam kidded with a grin.

" Sam, it's 101..." Dean said showing him the reading, " That's not good..."

" It's a little high, nothing to write home about.." Sam muttered as he looked at Dean's tense face. " Dean, I'm fine, I've just got a fever..."

" Which tablets didn't you take this morning..?" Dean suddenly asked as he put the thermometer on the coffee table and headed for Sam's room.

" Dean, look, I appreciate what you're doing but seriously, you're over reacting..." Sam said now physically having to push himself into a sitting position.

" Yeah, well, call me Florence friggin Nightingale..." Dean muttered coming back with two small bottle in his hands. He held them out stubbornly to Sam. " Now which ones..?"

Sam's hazel eyes stared stubbornly up at Dean.

" Dude don't give me that look..." Dean muttered as he looked at Sam with an annoyed expression. " Now stop acting like a child.."

" Stop treating me like one..." Sam hastily spat, " Look, I told you these make me feel...-"

" Yeah, I heard you the first time, they make you feel funny.." Dean finished for Sam, " But sorry, bud, that's not a good enough excuse.."

" You don't understand..." Sam said feebly. The younger Winchester was seriously running out of things to say now. At least of things to say that didn't make him sound like a whiny four year old.

Dean sighed and sat down on the coffee table in front of Sam.

" Sammy, please..." Dean finally said his voice slightly softer, " I get that they make you feel funny, but look, if you don't take them, you're gonna end up really ill..."

" I'm ill now.." Sam countered. " How do you know it's not because of the tablets...?"

" How do you know it's because of the tablets..?" Dean equally countered, a more dogged look on his face. " Ok, look I'll do you a deal.."

Sam gave his brother a dubious look. It was pretty obvious that Sam was not going to like the terms and conditions of this idea.

" You take these tablets for the rest of day, the normal dosage..." Dean said holding up his hand to cut off Sam's furious protest. " I'll keep a very strong eye on your temperature and everything else. If anything goes funky, you come off the tablets..."

Sam looked suspiciously at Dean. How his brother could be ignoring the glaring obvious solution that was staring them both in the face..?

" Or, I could just pop down to the doctors, tell them what's happened and see if these things are interfering with me.." Sam suggested.

Dean's face paled dramatically and Sam noticed the change instantly. Dean bolted to a stand position and walked away from Sam.

Dean had to walk, he couldn't let Sam seeing him shaking or panicking.

" No doctors Sammy..." Dean said simply, his voice barely audible, his breathing barely normal.

" But...-" Sam asked shaking his head in confusion. " This is what makes me so mad Dean..." Sam muttered unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.

" Look, I asked you to trust me..-" Dean started, when Sam shot him an angry look.

" You asked me to trust you almost two weeks ago Dean...!" Sam snapped, " You can't expect me to never want to know what's going on..."

Dean sucked in a breath, and walked back to Sam. The bottle of pills still in his hands; he wore his most earnest look.

" Please, Sammy..." Dean whispered, " I just don't want anything to happen to you, is that too much to hope for..?"

Sam reluctantly looked at Dean.

" You really think these things are helping, because I don't.." Sam said bluntly, " Every time I take them, I feel like I need to sleep for a week or I'm on another planet to everyone else.."

" You're tired and you need rest.." Dean admitted as he sighed himself, " We both do..."

Sam half-heartedly reached for the bottle with the white tablets and tipped two out onto his palm. Dean quickly returned from the kitchen with a glass of water, and Sam unwillingly downed the tablets. Dean's eyes were still on him. Sam noticed.

" You want to check under my tongue..?" Sam asked moodily.

" No..." Dean said unable to hide the smile that was breaking onto his face, " If you tell me you swallowed them, I believe you..."

" Good, because if you did I ask, I'd probably slap you.." Sam muttered as he flopped back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

" Just think of them as little tic-tacs..." Dean said with a grin, which received no humour back from Sam. Dean pouted at his brother's lack of humour. Finally he sighed and sat back down on the coffee table.

" Why don't you try and get some sleep.." Dean suggested, stifling a yawn himself, " Some proper sleep..."

" Why don't you try and tell me what you found out about this spirit..." Sam asked crisply, " Or did you think I'd forgot about that..?"

" Of course not.." Dean said with a heavy sigh, " Ok truth is, Clearwater, Florida, must be the most uneventful place in the world..."

" Nothing..?" Sam whispered unable to hide the shock on his face, " There was nothing suspicious at all..?"

" Nope, so I got a bit curious myself and started checking around the whole of Florida..." Dean admitted, " And, well, to be perfectly honest Sam, it's pretty quiet..."

Sam couldn't hide the confused look on his face, and Dean couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid.

" Did you find it in the book..?" Dean asked with a fake smile, although he already knew the answer.

" No..." Sam mumbled as he pulled the blanket closer to his body, suddenly feeling a chill. " But you'd already figured that out..."

" Look, just because it's not in the book or online, doesn't mean it's not around..." Dean said, trying to keep his voice as believable as possible.

" Hey, why don't you try using the night vision on the camera, you know have a look.." Sam suggested but paused when a large yawn escaped his mouth, " Oh whoa..."

Sam's hands went straight to the top of his head. He felt bizarre, strange and seriously sick. The bitter taste in his mouth had returned with a passion.

Dean could only stare at Sam.

" Sammy..?" Dean whispered, " Man, are you ok..?"

" I think I will lie down..." Sam said between clenched teeth. Dean held out his hand and Sam took it as he struggled into a standing position. " Could you..-"

Sam's voice trailed off as he grabbed his chest, as his breathing came in ragged breaths. Dean held him upright.

" Oh man..." Sam whispered as he his breathing rattled out, each one of them feeling like razors.

Dean stared wide eyed at his little brother. Why couldn't life just give them a break for crying out loud...?

" Nearly at your room..." Dean gasped as he carried most of Sam's weight. He glanced around the tidy room and eased his brother onto the bed.

Sam simply curled himself into a ball, his body shaking every so often. Dean was worried as he picked up his brother's comforter and covered him gently.

" The night vision.." Sam whispered his voice trembling with pain as he his breathing became laboured again. His chest was incredibly tight, " Please, just do a sweep of the..-"

" Yeah, of course I will..." Dean muttered, " I don't know why I didn't think of that in the first place..."

Dean watched as Sam's face was contorted in pain, his eyes squeezed shut.

" Maybe some painkillers...?" Dean suggested as he headed out the room and quickly returned with the bottle of blue pills.

Sam glumly nodded, at this precise moment he'd try anything to get rid of this pain. Sam knew Dean was worried, it was clear on his older brother's face.

Sam was already masking how bad the pain actually was, he could only imagine the state Dean would end up in if he ever found out how much pain Sam really was in. The difference was it was getting harder and harder each time to mask the pain, and this bout had caught the little brother completely off guard.

Dean returned from the living room, opened the bottle and tipped three onto his hand and then promptly handed it to Sam.

The younger Winchester didn't question the dosage his big brother had given him; he trusted him too much.

Instead he tossed the three blue bitter tasting tablets into his mouth and with Dean's help swallowed the water down. Sam heavily flopped back against his pillows.

Dean placed the glass on Sam's night stand and begun to study the dosage on the prescription labels of the bottle. Sam watched as Dean silently opened the night stand draw and placed them in and closed it back.

" Just rest ok, if you need anything, just call..." Dean said standing up and heading for the bedroom door.

" Dean..?" Sam called, his voice shaking furiously, " You're gonna check the room right..?"

" You bet I am..." Dean said with a determined look on his face. " I'm going to the car to get the stuff and anything else I think will work in tracking this son-of-a-bitch down..."

" Good..." Sam gasped out, as a bolt of pain rocketed through him, " Be careful..."

" I'm going to the car Sam, not to the Bronx..." Dean said with a grin, " You just close those eyeballs of yours and try and get your ass some sleep..."

Sam nodded quietly and listened as Dean pulled the door in, but didn't lock it.

Sam lay in his bed, his body shaking every so often from the tremors of the pain. His stomach felt as it if had been set on fire, his chest felt too tight to breathe, and his head ached in an unbelievable manner. Sam closed his eyes, the headache was normal.

He'd had that horrendous pain with him on and off since he'd left the hospital; but the other symptoms were new.

Sam didn't need a medical degree to know that something weird was happening with his body. He was ill, extraordinarily ill.

Too much was happening too quick and that could only mean one thing. That something supernatural was behind it.

He knew that spirit that had been hovering around menacingly near Dean must have something to do with it.

It was pretty clear that the spirit, demon, ghost, whatever the thing was must have been involved.

Sam finally allowed sleep to pull him into the stagnant form, knowing that once Dean returned and found some sort of trace evidence of this spirit, his big brother would come up with a way to kill the thing.

Then maybe, Sam could stand a chance at actually getting better...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean sat on the wooden steps that lead onto their upstairs deck, with the small video camera in his hands.

He needed a few minutes to get his head together.

Seeing Sam like that, in so much pain, that had scared him.

Sam was tougher than he looked; even the doctors had admitted that. His little brother was resilient, but by God, he wasn't made of stone. It took a lot for Sam to ever express pain to anyone, let alone Dean, so Dean had quickly realised that Sam must have been near enough ready to scream for him to have reacted like that.

_...He's not getting better, he's getting worse..._Dean thought to himself_...I should have never taken him out of hospital without making sure he was ready, what if he's dying, what if I've caused this whole situation...?_

Dean ran a hand roughly through his short brown hair, his hazel green eyes stung with unfallen tears.

If Sam got ill again. Really ill again.

_...No, it just can't happen..._Dean drummed into his brain_...I'll do whatever the hell it takes, but I will not lose him again, I won't..._Dean said as he forced himself to climb the steps..._I can't lose him..._

His hands reached for the sliding door, when he paused as a gentle breeze blew softly over his face. His skin tingled from the warmth of the breeze and smell of the salty sea air. He could easily see why Sammy would always come out here at night, it was peaceful, gave your mind a chance to think...

" **Make sure he keeps taking the tablets Dean, it's the only way to keep Sammy alive. It's the only way for you to save him.."**

Dean inhaled the sea air and took a steadying breath.

His mind was clear, his mind now focused. All he had to do was make sure Sam kept taking his medication and his little brother would be just fine.

Slipping in quietly through the sliding door, Dean crept over to Sam's room and silently pushed the door. Sam lay on his side, his back to Dean.

Dean tip toed quietly over to Sam and saw that his little brother was fast asleep. His breathing was a little raspy for Dean's liking, but at least he was still breathing. Dean gently adjusted Sam's blanket and silently crept out the room again, leaving the door open, while ignoring the violent urge of wanting to wake Sam up.

Instead the elder Winchester concentrated on the camera, turned it on and adjusted it to night vision.

It was time for Dean to go hunting...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**(swoons) Dean off hunting evil, can't think of anything more yummy ! Plus a sweaty and ill Sammy, double yum. Poor old Dean, his lies and conscience is eating the poor boy alive and as for Sam, man he trusts his big brother blindly...lets hope he doesn't live to regret it huh..? If you get a chance please leave a review ! Next update should be Sunday (internet allowing of course :o))**


	5. Big Top

**Sunday, which means update night. Thanks again for the wonderful reviews I received, they're always gratefully appreciated.**

**On a side note, I'm beginning to notice that some of the readers are a little mad at Dean for not listening to Sam regarding the medication. I feel I need to speak up for the over protective big brother that Dean is. The boy is not well, physically he's getting back on his feet, but mentally, he's taken a total and utter beating; to be brutally honest, he's in a worse state than Sam. Dean can't confess the truth, not yet. Dean can't listen to Sam regarding any illness or tablets, or anything; if he did ever accept that Sam was ill, it would mean that Dean had failed. Failure is something that Dean can not and will not deal with at this present time. It was Dean that made the decision to run off with Sam away from the hospital, and it's those consequences he has to deal with now. Also, Dean lives in fear, fear that if he ever did tell Sam the truth about his lies, the truth about dad, the truth about the part Dean played in the situation, that Sam would just pick himself up and leave him….and Dean can not deal with being left alone; we all saw how he coped with what happened to Sam, and the truth is, Dean will be reduced to nothing, and worse of all, Dean knows it.**

**So for now, he has to lie, and at some odd level, Dean knows he's kidding himself. He's also living in total fear. It's not a nice place Dean is in. Not nice at all.**

**As for Sam, poor boy is all I can say. He's in so much trouble, and he's placing all his faith and hope in Dean. Sam is just so confused, but he's sure Dean would never let anything bad ever happen to him. Normally, that's true, but with Dean in this unattached state of mind, what if Dean just can't see the danger coming..?**

**Ok enough ramblings, the pace picks up a little now with this chapter. I promise you guys that this chapter was written well before a certain episode aired.**

**On with 'The Big Top'…**

Chapter Five- The Big Top

Dean Winchester sat one of the sofa's staring back at the images he'd recorded, when he felt a pair of eyes staring at him. Glancing up, he spotted a tried looking Sam shoot him a limp smile.

"What did you find..?" Sam asked as he hobbled over to the other sofa and collapsed on it.

"Besides a whole new level of frustration…" Dean admitted as he scrubbed his face with his hands, " I guess night vision means just that…"

Dean saw the crushed look on Sam's face.

" I'll try again when it actually goes dark…." Dean said mustering a smile for Sam's sake, " Little more authentic than pulling blinds and stuff…"

Sam nodded quietly as he closed his eyes and allowed his head to loll against the back of the sofa. Dean studied his little brother with a studious look.

" How are you feeling..?" Dean asked quietly, " You still look like crap.."

" Thanks…" Sam said with a weak smile, as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Actually I feel a lot better, a little light headed but ok…"

" Good…" Dean said as he snapped the camera lens shut with his hand and placed it on the coffee table. " What do you fancy for lunch..?"

Sam peeked at him through one of his eyes, resembling a sleepy cat.

" Thought we'd grab lunch while we were out…"

Dean gave him a funny look, " Where are we going..?"

Sam grinned widely as he looked at the suspicious look on his elder brother's face.

" Circus..!" Sam said taking in Dean's startled appearance, " I said we'd go today, and we are…"

" Dude, we're not going today…" Dean said matter of fact style, " You're too ill…"

" I feel fine.." Sam lied as he looked at Dean's tired face, " Come on man, you've been looking forward to this since last night.."

" I'm not five years old…" Dean muttered, " I mean for crying out loud, we're in Florida. If I was really excited I'd haul your ass to Island of Adventures…"

" Really, you strike me more as a Disney kind of person.." Sam teased, " I could see you trying to get Cinderella's number.."

" Snow White was kinda hot as well…" Dean said with a mischievous look.

" Maybe we can go later in the week…" Sam said with a hopeful smile, " I would love to go see the animals over at Sea World…"

" Yeah, I can see you and Shamu bonding over a fish supper…" Dean said with a wicked smile, " But the penguins are kind of cool, them are their fat bodies.."

Sam laughed at Dean's wrinkled face.

" So today we'll hit the circus…" Sam said just as Dean started to protest, " No buts Dean, this is your vacation as well, in fact we should get going…"

Dean glanced at his watch. Ok, so Sam was right. He did want to go to the circus, and have a laugh with his little brother. The idea of going to see a freak show where Dean didn't have to carry a gun loaded with rock salt was worth its weight in gold to Dean.

" You sure you're ok..?" Dean asked as he watched as Sam nodded his head slowly, " Cause I'm not picking your ass up if you collapse on me…"

" I feel fine…" Sam lied again as he pushed himself to his feet. " Now I'm gonna get ready, I suggest you do the same thing.."

" Maybe just to be on the safe side, you should take your next dose of medication now…" Dean quickly said, as Sam shot him an annoyed look, " You know, just to keep it level in your system. You said so yourself, you're feeling better and the tablets are behind it…"

" You seem pretty sure…" Sam muttered in an annoyed tone, " Why are you so sure..?"

" Cause I'm your big brother…" Dean said with a wicked grin as he scooped up the laptop and camera into his hands and headed towards his bedroom.

" And let me guess, that automatically makes you correct…" Sam muttered as he walked hesitantly towards his room. Dean looked curiously as he watched as Sam's eyes scanned the bedroom before he entered it.

" Of course it makes me correct…" Dean said with a killer smile. " Big brother's are always right…."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean slipped into the driver's seat of the Impala, and instantly felt relaxed, if there was anywhere that ever felt like a home to him, it was the driver's seat to his baby.

Flicking through his tape collection he poked around and pulled out his 'Guns 'n' Roses' tape and slid into the ancient tape deck.

Before Sam had even clambered into the passenger side, 'Sweet Child of Mine' filled the car, which mustered a smile from Sam.

" Haven't heard that for a while…" Sam said as he rolled his window down, wishing that Dean would agree to get air conditioning installed into the classic car.

" I know…" Dean said already patting the steering wheel along with the beat as he reversed from the parking spot under their apartment.

" I wonder where dad is..?" Sam suddenly asked as he Dean pulled onto the highway. The question had come straight out of left field.

" He's fine…" Dean muttered, his mood already darkening.

" How do you know…?" Sam asked as he Dean shot him an aggravated look.

" I just know, alright…" Dean muttered again, his jaw clenching tightly.

" Maybe we should call him..?" Sam suggested as he shifted his long legs in the passenger seat, feeling increasingly confided in the small space. " You know, to see how he's getting on, when he's getting back…"

" Where are all these questions coming from..?" Dean demanded, " Look we're on vacation, no hunting, no demons, no loaded shot guns…"

" You sure you're not the one who had the brain haemorrhage..?" Sam quipped, " Cause you're the one who sounds all cranky…"

" I'll shove that crank up your ass if you don't shut your hole…" Dean moodily snapped.

Sam gave his brother a funny look, " Dean, I was just asking…"

" That's your friggin problem Sam, you're always wanting more, never satisfied with what you've got…" Dean heatedly spat, his anger at the mention of his father bled through his pours at the first available target; Sam.

" What is wrong with you..?" Sam demanded angrily, " You know what, just forget it…" Sam snapped before Dean could reply as he sunk down in his seat.

Dean angrily looked at Sam, and then sighed loudly.

" Why are we fighting…?" Dean finally asked as he drove along the coast line of Clearwater.

" You're the one who took my head off cause I asked about dad…" Sam muttered, " So why don't you tell me…"

" I just don't think we should be spending time thinking about him…" Dean mumbled as he kept his eyes on the road, " Besides, if we phone dad, the world of hunting begins again for us; now I know you don't want that, right..?"

Ok, so it was low.

But this conversation had to stop. It had to stop right now.

Dean couldn't take the lying, he couldn't take the heat in his cheeks which he was sure were turning red, and if he would feel heat then he was sure that Sam would see it.

Playing on Sam's craving of a normal life was Dean's only way out; it was his Ace. So be it, if he had to use it every now and again. Sam wanted a normal life, and if he really wanted a normal life, then keeping John Winchester out of their lives came top of that list; and keeping John Winchester away was exactly what Dean not only wanted but needed.

The idea of seeing his father now, and feeling the way he did. For Dean he could only see one way how that scene would play out; with a perfectly executed round house punch aimed at his father's face. Who knew from there, maybe he'd never stop hitting him.

Sam glanced over at Dean, that puppy dog, doe-eyed bambi thing Sam always did without ever realising it.

" I'm just thinking about dad that's all…" Sam said defending the conversation, " I haven't seen him since the night of the crash, and even that's a little hazy at times…"

" He was blaming you for not killing the demon…" Dean said in a pointed tone. " Or do you want me to remind you..?"

Ok another low blow for Sam, but he needed to understand that the more he thought about his father the more it would hurt Sam, not to mention Dean.

Sam shot Dean a hurt look, but instead of responding, snapped his mouth shut.

The Winchester boys drive in total silence, while the sounds of 'November Rain' echoed around the car. For now, both boys were trapped in their own thoughts.

Finally after ten minutes Dean eased the long classic car into a vacant spot in the parking lot, and climbed out the car and into the glorious, hot sunshine. He pulled his shades from the hook on his navy blue t-shirt and slapped them on his face.

Sam quietly climbed out the car closing the door behind him. Both brothers took in the sight they saw, and it baited two almost identical smiles to their faces. Dean caught the grin on his little brother's face.

" Told you this would be great…" Dean said as he walked to the front of the car and lent on the bonnet, folding his arms across his chest.

Surrounding them were sights you only got from carnivals. The stands filled with their old fashioned games of coconut shies, basketball games, test your muscles with big fat hammer, and lastly, food.

" Humm, popcorn…" Dean mused, already straightening and heading towards the direction of the booth, he glanced over at Sam who was still staring out into the crowd. " You coming or what..?"

Sam nodded and trotted after Dean. By the time he'd arrived, Dean had already gained himself two bags of toffee popcorn, one he thrusted into Sam's hands.

" What about lunch..?" Sam asked in a confused manner, " There's a café over there…"

" Dude, this is a carnival…" Dean said between popping a few kernels into his mouth, " The point of lunch here is to eat as much food as possible…"

Sam stared at his uneaten popcorn, " This isn't food Dean.."

" It is where I come from.." Dean quipped with a chuckle, " Just relax little man, kick back and have a good time…"

Sam sighed and sucked in a breath.

Dean was right, it was time to stop worrying and time to just relax and have a good time.

After all, he couldn't think of the last time he'd actually gone out, with Dean, when there wasn't a hunt somewhere in the middle of them. Dean was right, kick back and relax and stop thinking about demons and spirits and whatever else that was plaguing his mind.

" Let's go find some candy floss…" Sam suggested as he peeped into Dean's medium sized box of pop corn and was surprised to see it half finished.

" Now you're talking Sammy…" Dean said allowing his nose to lead him over to the candy floss seller, " What colour do you want..?"

" Oh it's not for us Dean…" Sam said allowing a smile to break on his handsome face, as Dean eyed him suspiciously, " It's for the elephant…"

A broad smile broke on Dean's face as he patted Sam proudly on the back. " That's my boy..!"

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam was giggling like mad as he watched Dean trying desperately to keep a straight face. They were both walking back towards the Impala, both their arms filled with stuffed toys, games, and other bric-a-brac they'd won from the many carnival stands.

" He had it coming, the son of a bitch…" Dean muttered as he dropped a stuffed bear down from his pile as he cursed when he couldn't find his keys in his black jeans. Finally he dumped the numerous stuffed toys on the roof as Sam lent against the side of the car, still laughing.

" The guy was like fourteen years old….!" Sam said with a laugh, " I can't believe you took him on…."

" Excuse me, did I not just beat his ass..?" Dean demanded a mock look of determination on his face, " Winchester's never walk away from challenges.."

" Especially ones issued by a bunch of kids…!" Sam said laughing, again as Dean finally found his keys and unlocked the car.

" Don't pretend like your mother Teresa or something Sammy, your mouth was pretty filthy as well you know…" Dean poked as he tossed the numerous animals into the back seat.

" Yeah well, they were ratting you out…" Sam said with a shrug as he loaded the other goodies into the trunk, " What was I gonna do, keep quiet…?"

Dean flashed him a smile, " No of course not…"

" Good…" Sam said as he patted his stomach, " You don't feel ill at all..? I mean the amount of crap we've eaten…"

" Nope, this stomach…" Dean patting his toned mid-riff, " It can handle anything…"

Sam rolled his eyes and locked the trunk back, as he did his eyes fell on the 'devil trap' that was now in white on either side of the trunk. A new edition to the car. Dean saw the look on Sam's face; his brother was drifting off into that little world again.

" Don't beat yourself up Sammy…" Dean said quickly as he locked the car and grabbed his brother by the arm and physically dragged him away from the Chevy. " Don't let him spoil this for you…"

Dean wanted things to stay exactly the way they were right now.

In the two weeks he'd spent with his brother, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, Sam hadn't laughed at all. He knew his brother's laugh; it was one of those laughs that lit up his face from the inside out and came from the depths of his soul. He had a way of laughing that made everyone else laugh; when he smiled, everyone smiled with him.

And now there first outing since they'd arrived and Sam had not stopped laughing. It made Dean relax and actually enjoy himself, yes ok, heckling a couple of punk kids along the way had been a bit of fun as well, but Dean always knew that Sam's mind always had a dark place, and he could only imagine what Sam often thought about; after all his little brother had a lot to fear.

Laughing for Sam was rare, so rare that Dean had forgotten what it sounded like. It had made a guest appearance today at the carnival and stayed with them for almost two whole hours. Dean would be damned if he would loose it so quickly.

" You know the circus is gonna start in like ten minutes..." Dean said glancing at his watch, " We better head over there..."

Sam nodded quietly and fell into steps with his brother as they strode through the crowded carnival, the sun beating down on their deprived skins.

" I don't think I've ever seen a circus act..." Sam admitted as he looked around the stalls they'd already visited. " How sad is that...?"

" Pretty pathetic actually..." Dean teased as he nudged Sam playfully and nodded towards a couple of jocks trying to impress a couple of pretty girls by the 'test your strength' hammer.

" Check out those losers..." Dean said with a grin, " Don't they know there is an art form to that thing..."

" You mean cheating...?" Sam said with a smile, " Come on Dean, there's no need for talent at all, it depends whether or not the guy running the stall allows you to win..."

" God you're a sceptic, aren't you..?" Dean muttered, " You really do test your strength, I've beaten guys all the time.."

Sam gave his brother a wrinkled look, " I won't even ask how that came about..."

" I think it's better that you don't.." Dean said with a wicked grin.

" Ok, see that weedy looking guy standing on the left..." Sam said yanking Dean's arm and pulling him aside, so they could watch the contest. " He's gonna win..."

" Yeah right, the jock's arm is bigger than his entire body.." Dean said with a laugh.

" Ten bucks says he wins..." Sam said with a shrug as he held out his hand to his elder brother.

" You're on...!" Dean said shaking Sam's hand firmly.

Watching keenly the brother's observed the scene about ten meters away from them.

The jocks all made decent scores and the girls who were watching clapped manically.

" They're hot...!" Dean commented watching two blonds hanging off one of the dark haired jocks.

" They're bimbos..." Sam commented with a sniff, " Haven't got a brain cell between them.."

" It's not their brains I'd be after..." Dean said wiggling his eyebrows which caused Sam to pop him up the side of his head.

" Don't be disgusting...!" Sam snapped, when he grabbed Dean's arm and pointed towards the weedy guy who he'd singled out earlier. " Watch..."

Dean rolled his eyes and with a sigh turned his attention to the scrawny looking guy who could barely pick up the large rubberised hammer. However, after some difficulty he slammed the hammer down, and Dean's mouth dropped open as the ringer screamed from the top.

Dean stared at Sam, " How the hell did you know that..?"

Sam sent him a mysterious grin as he rolled his eyes at the new scene in front of him; the two blond bimbo's now on the end of the arm of the scrawny little guy.

" Not a brain between them..." Sam said with a sigh as he turned and headed towards the large circus tent he could see straight ahead. " And you owe me ten bucks..."

Dean grabbed his arm back, causing him to stop.

" What was that back there...?" Dean demanded with a whispered hiss, " Sammy, if your whole ESP thing is gonna start rearing its ugly head again, you could at least give your brother some warning, instead of bleeding ten bucks from him.."

" You haven't paid me yet..." Sam said pointedly as he folded his arms stubbornly across his chest, " If you had, then you could say I was bleeding you.."

Dean clicked his tongue as he stared into Sam's hazel eyes, his own hazel green ones growing tense.

" Sammy...?" Dean demanded, " You know if something is..-"

" The act's about to start..." Sam sad turning towards the circus tent, purposely ignoring the look on Dean's face, " I want us to get at least half decent seats, that way I can shove you towards the bearded lady..."

" I'll give you friggin bearded lady in the minute…" Dean muttered, as he trotted quietly behind Sam, his eyes never leaving the sight of the two hot blondes stringing onto the arms of the weedy nerd.

" Like I keep saying…" Dean mumbled, " Demons, I get, humans are just plain crazy.."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

" Ah man, we are so, coming back tomorrow…!" Dean said laughing, his face relaxed as he replaced his dark shades back on his face as stepped into the afternoon sun shine.

Sam however wasn't smiling; besides have a reinforcement to why the younger Winchester was scared of clowns, somewhere in the middle of their predictable act, the headache from earlier this morning seemed hell bent in making a re-appearance in his head. Sam could see how happy Dean was, it was bizarre that something as little as going to the circus could put a smile a wide long on his big brother's face. It also startled Sam to discover that he actually still found clowns quite scary.

Sam was determined not to spoil anything for Dean, after all Dean had been so good to him lately, patient and kind and constantly doing anything he could humanly do to ease Sam's situation; the least Sam could so was shut his mouth on a lousy headache and let Dean enjoy himself.

Dean glanced over at Sam; his little brother was too quiet.

" You ok..?" Dean asked cautiously, " You've been a bit quiet.."

" I'm fine Dean, just a little tired…" Sam said deciding that that explanation was better than the truth, " Maybe we could grab some dinner or something, then you know, we can see the fireworks…"

" Now you're talking my language…" Dean said patting Sam's back, " How does hot dogs sound…?"

" How about some real food Dean, I'm starving.." Sam lied, truth was he was full, and the smell of the greasy food was making him feel ill.

" Urmm, sure…" Dean said glancing around the steady stream of stalls of people and looking for somewhere to eat, " Any ideas..?"

" Yeah, there was that diner near the entrance…" Sam said with a wrinkle of his nose as two girls wondered past with hamburgers. Sam's stomach churned.

Sam touched the pit of his stomach and Dean looked at him carefully.

" Sammy..?" Dean asked worry quickly creeping through," What's wrong..?"

" I'm gonna go and grab my tablets, I left them in the car.." Sam admitted, as he watched Dean's suspicious face.

" You never took them did you..?" Dean said in annoyance, as Sam opened his mouth to defend his actions, but Dean promptly cut him off. " I warned you, I told you this would happen, why don't you ever listen to me..?"

" I'll meet you back at the diner…" Sam muttered glumly as he turned and walked towards the direction of the car, his hands jammed in his pocket.

" …**.Stupid son of a bitch, always think you know better, always think you know better than everyone else, well I hope whatever is happening in that head of yours kills you this time….."**

Sam froze at the words, his mouth falling open. He could not believe that Dean had just said that.

Turning to look at Dean, he found Dean walking off in the opposite direction.

Crushed, Sam headed towards the Impala, Dean's words spinning around his head……

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester walked into the diner and grinned. Ok, so Sammy's choice of eatery hadn't been too bad. The place was clean, sunny and held a variety of food. Grabbing a booth near the back, he picked up the menus and examined the contents; there were tons to choose from.

In truth, Dean had no need for a menu, he knew what he wanted, a double cheese burger with the works, with extra fries and a bottle of Corona to top it off; Sam was the one who would spend half his life examining the contents of the menu.

Dean sighed and took his phone out his back pocket and checked to see if Sam had called him. There were no messages or missed calls. He looked at the scratches on his phone, his finger tracing the dents; one of the only traces left from the car crash. Sam had lost his phone somewhere in the wreckage, and at the moment, his little brother was using one of Dean's very old phones which had been locked away in the trunk.

Dean checked his watch and to make sure his watch hadn't decided to piss gravity off and speed up, he checked the time against the diners shell shaped clock.

It should not take Sam twenty minutes to get to the car, even in his conditions.

Dean snapped open his phone, found Sam's new number, making note to having to reset his speed dials again, and hit call….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam unlocked the Impala with his set of keys to the black car. His head was pounding, like his brain had had enough of its current home and was desperate to move out.

Pulling open the passenger side, he opened the glove compartment and stared confused into the box. He could have sworn he'd left a spare set inside of there. Now climbing into the car and closing the door behind him, Sam begun emptying the contents of the glove box and sat there with a wrinkled expression when he saw the yellow bottle of painkillers were gone.

Sighing loudly, he rested his head against the head rest and closed his hazel eyes.

He was half tempted to call Dean and ask him if he'd moved them else where, but then remembered the angry parting words Dean had thrown at him before he'd left.

How could Dean's mood be drifting so erratically..?

Sam sucked in his breath and held it steady, then again, maybe it wasn't Dean, whose moods were under suspicion, maybe, it was his.

Sam was the one who was constantly forgetting where he'd put things; and this looked like one of those occasions.

Placing the contents of the glove box back into the slot, he glanced up just in time to see Dean storming over to him.

One look at the approaching Dean's face told Sam he'd already done something wrong.

Very wrong.

Swallowing, Sam was about to climb out the car, when Dean slammed the door shut, trapping Sam in the seat. Sam shot his elder brother a funny look, realising that Dean had him pinned in the car. Winding down his window he shot Dean an aggravated look.

" You're locking me in the car..?" Sam muttered, " Mature Dean…"

" Shut up…" Dean barked, " If I wanted running commentary from you, I'd ask for it.."

Sam's mouth snapped shut. What the hell was wrong with Dean..?

" Just wondering how long you were going to take Sam, had me sitting on my ass in that diner once again waiting around for you…" Dean spat, " I mean the whole world doesn't revolve around you, believe it or not…"

" I never said it did…" Sam numbly muttered, " Dean what's the matter with you, what was with that crack..?"

" Which one..?" Dean asked a bored expression on his face, as he lent against the door, his back to Sam.

" About you wanting me to die…" Sam hesitantly asked, as he wished Dean would turn and look at him.

" Well, maybe I've had enough of hauling your sorry ass around…" Dean said with a shrug as he finally turned and knelt down in front of Sam, Dean's face in the entrance of the window. " I mean come on Sam, even you got to know it's boring always having to keep an eye out on daddy's precious little cargo.."

" Look, I know things haven't been easy.." Sam feebly started; he could already feel the little colour he had in his face draining away.

" Shh….." Dean said his hand coming towards Sam's face and cupping it in his hands, the grip on Sam's head was strong, powerful. Sam stared into Dean's eyes, they were cold, cruel, but yet he'd seen those looks before.

Sam couldn't believe it, but the first time, well, ever; Sam was scared of Dean.

" Just had to destroy my life didn't you baby brother…" Dean said with a chuckle, " Just couldn't stay dead could you…?"

" What do you mean..?" Sam whispered now trying to open the door, but the look on Dean's cold face made him freeze.

" Well, maybe you should have died in the crash, that way dad wouldn't have had to look at your sorry face; I mean that's why he left…" Dean explained as he clicked his tongue, " He grew sick of having a failure for a son.."

Sam watched as Dean walked coolly away from the car. His heart hammered violently in his chest; he could already feel his hair on the back of his neck standing up on end, his breathing increasingly violently.

Anxiously, he yanked open the glove compartment and his hands shaking furiously ripped out the contents of the glove compartment in one last desperate search.

He could already feel the angry tears burning in his eyes.

He sucked in his breath and was sure he was about to pass out. The tears were already falling from his eyes blurring his sight, but they weren't fast enough, strong enough to cut what he was seeing.

There, sitting amongst the contents of the glove box sat the bottle of pain killers.

Frantically glancing up Sam searched the parking lot.

Dean was gone.

Scrambling out the car, Sam's hands sat on top of his head, his fingers working and pulling furiously at his hair; confusion running amock with his body.

What the hell was going on..?

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Thanks for reading guys. Please review and let me know how you're liking it (or hating it). Because my internet was evil last week, I'll be a kind soul and treat you guys to an extra chapter this week. So update will be Tuesday. Xxxx**


	6. Whispers

**(sighs) This site hates me. Thanks to those who did review, I have noticed that the post count has gone up, but with the site not sending any alerts to my inbox or allowing me to view on site; I'll just have to walk into this chapter a little blind.**

**I do hope you're all enjoying it. This story is just beginning to get motoring, so hang on in there LOL.**

**(grins evilly) Hope you guys enjoy these next couple chapters, I had a ball writing them.**

**On with 'Whispers'….**

Chapter 6- Whispers

Dean sat with his phone glued to the side of his head, listening as Sam's phone rang out and went onto voicemail. He hung up, not wanting to leave a message; an explanation to why it was taking Sam so long to walk to the car and back would be more appreciated.

Sighing as he took another sip of his remaining half bottle of tiger beer, something new he hadn't had before, and he had time to kill before he moved onto his familiar bottle of Miller or Cools or any other popular US brand.

" Hi..?!"

Dean jolted and turned in his seat to the booth behind him, to find himself staring into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he'd ever seen in his life.

" Hi…" Dean said giving out his most smouldering smile.

It was one of the blond girls from the 'test your strength' stall. The pretty girl who had been hanging off the jocks arms, looking like the perfect trophy.

God she was stunning.

Long blond hair, blue eyes Dean would happily drown in, a body he wouldn't mind getting friendly with. Perfect eyes, perfect lips, with a perfect mouth Dean would love to get to know a little better.

" I saw you and your friend watching us…" The girl cooed, " Did you like what you were seeing..?"

" I was impressed if that's what you mean…" Dean said with a grin, as his eyes scanned

the diner wondering where his new pretty blond friend was hiding her other blond buddy.

" Do you have a name..?" The girl teased, " Or can I just call you gorgeous..?"

Dean grinned, she was defiantly not shy this one. He liked a woman with a bit about her.

" You could call me gorgeous, but other people might get jealous and then some ugly scenes might break out…" Dean kidded as he held out his hand to her, " It's Dean.."

" I'm Lydia, the other girl you saw me with was my sister…" Lydia said with a sweet smile, " She thought you were hot as well…"

" You're sister's got good taste…" Dean said with a smile, as he found himself staring at his phone again; still nothing from Sammy.

" I spotted you first…" Lydia said with a giggle, " She's in the rest room…"

" Well, look, if you ladies are free tonight, why don't you let me take you out…" Dean suggested, " Got to be something fun to do around here…"

" I can think of something fun to do…" Lydia said suggestively," You'll bring your friend right..? Wouldn't want Sandy to feel left out…"

" Oh that guy you saw me with, that was my brother, Sam…" Dean admitted, " Yeah, not too worry, wouldn't want to leave Sandy with nothing to occupy herself with…"

Dean glanced up and saw the other blond girl who he now knew as Sandy, hurry up to them.

" Lyd, let's go…" Sandy said flashing Dean a wonderful smile.

" Look, it's almost five why don't I meet you guys around here at 8pm…" Lydia said slipping out the booth, " We could hit some bars and see where the night takes us.."

Dean nodded, took her number and watched as the two sisters walked out the diner; he was defiantly enjoying the view.

Dean grinned to himself, this day was turning out better than he had ever expected. He had a date with a stunning blond who obviously wasn't interested in idle conversation, and he'd got Sam some lovely company with a pretty lady. Dean found a mischievous smile appeared on his face, he could just imagine Sam's face when he told him; his brother would want to know why he was pimping him out.

Dean again stared at the time and drummed his fingers on the table, ok, enough was enough.

Where the hell was Sam..?

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester snapped off the lid of the bottle and tossed three blue capsules onto his palm and downed them with the bottle of water. He couldn't even be bothered to read the dosage. Dean usually gave him three; so he figured it would be correct.

Dean knew best.

Sam's heart sunk, and he could feel his stomach churning again, clambering out the car he ran to the side and the last bit of self esteem tumbled out of his gut as his stomach wretched away.

Lifting his head up, he slumped back down against the side of the black Impala and stared out at the coast line that stretched out just below his feet.

" **Just do everyone a favour and drown your sorry ass….."**

Sam shook the voice from his head; he could already feel tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled his knees against his chest.

Dean hated him.

Not the way when brother's had an argument and you stormed off in anger. Not the way where you didn't want to see them for a little while because you just might throw a brick at their face. Not the way when you just screamed at them that you hated them, but never actually meant it.

Dean had meant it.

Every single word of it.

He hated Sam to the point where he no longer tried to pretend. The most painful note for Sam was knowing that every single fear he had was coming true, all the things he hoped wasn't true was raining down on him like acid.

Every single drop stung.

Dean had confirmed that their dad had taken off because of the huge mistake Sam had made. His father hated him, and now because he'd made his father leave, Dean hated him as well. Dean had been left with him, a magnet for evil and his elder brother trapped in his position as protector.

Dean had been right, he'd been right about everything.

Sam closed his eyes as he felt a tear escape down his face.

Sam had no idea that the truth would be as painful as this…

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean finally sighed when he spotted a haggard form that barely resembled Sam slug its way into the diner. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down in his booth.

" I was just coming for you…" Dean said as he watched as Sam kept his head low and sunk into the seat opposite him. " You sure as hell took your time.."

" You know why…" Sam mumbled as he pulled a menu from the table, grateful for the view as it meant he didn't have to look at Dean.

He knew Dean would still be waiting for him at the diner; it was rare that Dean ever let the calling of hunger go unanswered. No matter what situation lay at his feet. Sam was determined not to upset Dean; he wouldn't anger him, or do anything. Sam did not want a repeat performance of what had taken place in the parking lot.

" You ready to order..?" Dean asked as he studied Sam's downed head.

Dean sighed; Sam was retreating back into himself again. The quietness was a huge giveaway- he was upset at his big brother, and Dean knew why. Dean groaned inwardly, in his little brother's condition why on earth had he said what he did..?

" Look, Sammy…" Dean said with a sigh, " I'm no good at this whole touchy feely crap…"

" You don't have to say anything.." Sam whispered never looking up at Dean, " I screwed up, I always screw up, you were right about everything…-"

" No, whoa, hang on.." Dean hurriedly said, " I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did, I just got a little angry.."

" No I understand, like I said I brought this on myself…" Sam said feeling the unnerving feeling rattling around again, " I'm sorry you're stuck here with me, but Dean..-"

" Back up there Sammy, look I'm sorry I yelled at you, it's not your fault this is happening.." Dean said looking at his little brother in confusion, " But you didn't bring this on…-"

" Can we just order…" Sam mumbled as he glanced up at Dean for the first time, " And drop this subject.."

" Sammy..?" Dean asked looking over at Sam's blood shot eyes, the dark rings around his eyes. Dean couldn't help it, his brother looked like a disorientated racoon.

" I'll have a grilled cheese sandwich…" Sam mumbled ignoring Sam's worried voice. He just didn't want another confrontation, he couldn't handle another confrontation.

" That's it..?" Dean asked in surprise, " You told me you were starving.."

" It's amazing how your appetite can change.." Sam said quietly.

Dean stared into Sam's eyes, he'd been crying. What on earth had happened to Sam..?

" Look, is there something you want to tell me..?" Dean muttered, " Cause you look like shit, and I can't have you looking like that for tonight.."

Sam's head shot up, " What's happening tonight..?"

A grin lit up Dean's face. " Now don't go getting all stupid on me, but I got us a double date tonight.."

Sam's mouth dropped open.

Was his brother for real..?

" You have got to be kidding me…" Sam spluttered, " After everything that has happened today, you expect us to pretend like nothing has happened.."

" Errr, yeah..?" Dean asked in a hopeful tone, also wondering what had happened. " Come on Sammy, it's the girls from the muscles thing.."

" What do you need me for..?" Sam muttered already growing angry.

" Keep her sister busy, while Lydia and I get, ermm, busy…" Dean said grinning widely.

" I'm not playing third wheel so you can get your leg over Dean…!" Sam snapped angrily, " And to think after everything you said, you want me to do this…"

" Come on, if you were a good brother you would…!" Dean challenged with a playful grin, " It's just a bit of fun Sammy, no need to get all melodramatic on me.."

" So if you're going out to get yourself laid, I guess I'll hunt for the spirit by myself…" Sam muttered as he stood up from the booth and slid himself out, " I'll see you back at home.."

Dean's mouth dropped open.

" Sam what about…-?"

Dean watched as Sam disappeared through the doors of the diner and scrubbed his face roughly with his hands.

Ok, he'd clean forgotten about the spirit that Sam had apparently seen. Apparently, there was that word again. It seemed wrong to use, and Dean felt wrong using it, but truth was he couldn't make much sense of Sammy's odd behaviour.

Sighing Dean slipped out the booth and placed two orders for a take-away. While he stood waiting for the orders to come up he thought about the way Sam had looked when he'd come into the diner. He'd looked worn out, drained, and shade of his former self. Maybe Dean was pushing him, perhaps Sam was right, he did need rest.

Shooting the waitress a smile as he collected his order of cheeseburgers and a grilled cheese sandwich, he headed out the diner and headed straight for the Impala…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam shuffled along the beach, taking the long route back to the beach house. For starters he knew it was the only route that Dean couldn't take. He'd never risk sand ending up in the Impala or risk it getting scratched.

Sam knew he'd be safe here for a little while.

As he walked, his sneakers in his hands, he allowed his feet to trudge in the soft warm sand, the waves nipping gently at his feet; his cargo pants rolled up on his calves.

He had no idea why he'd reacted the way he had in the diner, so his brother had a date, so what..? Dean was allowed to have a good time go out with girls and do what he wanted.

He deserved it.

Sam shook his head; he couldn't stand the thoughts that seemed to be sucking him into this horrible frightening pattern.

Pausing, the younger Winchester knew he was at least a mile away from the beach house, but he didn't care. He stood staring out at the blue water, the sand feeling comforting and warm.

" **Dean hates you…He hates you so much….You've ruined everything for everyone…You're better off dead….."**

Sam closed his eyes the voice hammering the words further into his head. His hands dropped his sneakers, as they flew to his head as the voice continued to drone.

" **Dean doesn't believe anything you told him, he knows there is no ghost, just ask him Sam, ask him…."**

Sam shook his head again; at least the nausea was passing; maybe the tablets were helping.

His subconscious was wrong, Dean was mad at me him yes, but he did believe him about the spirit, Dean wouldn't let him down on a hunt.

" **But he's leaving you to go out on a date…Leaving you all alone…By yourself Sam…."**

Sam wrinkled his nose desperately trying to get the voice out of his head.

" He's allowed to have his own life…" Sam snapped and then promptly clamped a hand over his mouth.

Who the hell was he talking to…?

Completely confused, Sam bent down and grabbed his sneakers from the sand and hurriedly looked around the deserted stretch of beach.

" **All alone now Sam….Anything can happen to you…."**

Shivering, Sam hurried down the beach and headed for his new home….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean slinked back in the drivers seat, one hand on the wheel his eyes on the road his head else where thinking about the confusion that was little brother.

Dean just didn't get it.

What was wrong with Sam..? In one day his brother had gone from throwing a knife at him, to accusing him of hiding things from him, to having a fun afternoon out at the carnival to the disturbing scene in the diner.

Glancing in his mirror at all the soft toys in the back seat, a grin slipped onto his face.

" Do you guys have any idea what's going on, because if so, could you clue a brother in here..?" Dean said with a chuckle.

Man did he need clueing in, he was beyond confused.

" **He's dying…."**

Dean slammed his foot on the brake as the Impala came to a shuddering, stuttering stop. Dean's heart hammered violently in his chest as the cold, bone chilling feeling traced its ugly way through Dean's entire being.

Pulling off the road, and ignoring the horns of the cars he'd held up, he pulled the Impala onto the dusty side road. Dean's hands gripping the steering wheel so fiercely that his knuckles had turned white, the colour drained from Dean's face.

" No, this can't be happening…" Dean whispered as his shaky hands ran through his brown hair, his hazel green eyes begun to fill with panic, his heart heavy with dread.

The emptiness inside overwhelmed him; just like it had when Sam had died.

" **Sam is dying…..It's all your fault….You can't save him….You can never save him…."**

Dean shook the voice from his head. Why was he thinking these thoughts, why was he feeling like this…?

" **You can't save him…You can never save him….He'll die for you, to save you Dean…"**

Dean scrubbed his face with his hands, these thoughts where the hell had they come from..?

" He won't die, I'll make sure of it…" Dean whispered as he closed his eyes, Sam's face filled with pain danced in front of him.

" **You took him from the hospital….You thought you knew better than anyone else…All you've done is destroy the only thing you had left Dean….He'll die at your hands Dean…Sam's blood will stain your hands…."**

Dean slammed his fist into the steering wheel.

" I'll save him…." Dean whispered as he threw the Impala into drive and pulled back onto the road.

" **Of course you will Dean…You'll do what every big brother will do…You'll protect him no matter what….The medication is the only way to save him Dean….The only way…."**

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel. He had to get home; now……

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam tossed his sneakers onto the deck and pushed the sliding door open; he could already see Dean pulling apart the living room.

" What are you doing…?" Sam asked in surprised as Dean flew past him like a whirlwind.

" You, eat that go and get some sleep…" Dean ordered a no nonsense tone to his voice which made Sam look at him suspiciously.

" Dean…?" Sam said as he took in the state of the living room, " What's going on in here..?"

" Well, you were right…" Dean said with a shrug, as he disappeared out into his room. " Shouldn't give you such a hard time little man…"

Sam wrinkled his nose, when had he said that..?

" I didn't meant to storm out the diner…" Sam said with a sigh, " I guess I was just so mad.."

"Tired, and upset…" Dean finished for him as he came out with a long sleeve purple shirt on, " Don't you worry about a thing.."

" Look, I don't feel like going tonight, but seriously there is no reason…-" Sam started as he watched as Dean rattled past him again, this time heading into Sam's room. He reappeared with his wallet.

" No, I'm not going, I'm just gonna head out and tell her that something's come up and we'll hook up another time…" Dean explained, " Then I'll check this house out top to bottom for sulphur or any other ghost like activity. How does that sound..?"

" It sounds like your rambling…" Sam admitted as Dean disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with a cup of coffee. " Dean..?"

" Maybe I am rambling…" Dean said with a half baked smile, " Now just drink your coffee.."

Sam rolled his eyes and took a sip of the coffee that Dean had just given him. He made a face.

" It tastes funny…" Sam said looking at Dean who had turned away from him.

" It's instant stuff, you know how shit that stuff usually tastes.." Dead said with a forced smile, " But it's the best we've got.."

Sam nodded, and finally sat down onto the sofa.

" Look, Dean, seriously…" Sam said as Dean watched apprehensively as Sam took another sip of coffee, " Go out with the two girls, I'm sure you'll find a way to entertain them both…"

Sam rolled his eyes at the look that appeared on Dean's face.

" Besides, I'm really not good company at the moment…" Sam admitted, " I'd just ruin the night for all of us…"

Dean nodded quietly, " I won't be long, I've already told her I needed to talk to her. I was supposed to meet her at 8pm…"

" It's only 7pm now…" Sam said with a shrug, " Seriously, don't stay on my account, I'm just as happy being home alone tonight…"

Dean studied Sam's face, his little brother looked like he meant what he was saying.

" Sam, look about the spirit…" Dean started with a sigh, " I didn't forget about it, just we had such a blast at the carnival I guess it just slipped my mind.."

" But you believe me right..?" Sam paused as he peeped over the edge of his half drunk coffee mug, " About the spirit..?"

Dean swallowed and then smiled warmly at Sam, " Of course I do Sammy, and we'll find it and then burn the thing straight back to hell…"

" That's all I wanted to hear.." Sam said with a satisfied nod, " Look Dean, there's something I want to ask you.."

" Make it quick…" Dean admitted as he walked back into the room, " Oh and don't worry about cleaning up in here…"

" Why is this place like this..? What were you looking for..?" Sam asked as he sat up on the sofa; a sudden wave of dizziness silenced him as he flopped back against the sofa.

" I couldn't find the 'Key of Solomon'.." Dean admitted, as he glanced around the kitchen suspiciously, " It turned up under my bed…"

Sam gave him a wrinkled expression, " I left it on the coffee table when we left this afternoon…"

" That's what I thought.." Dean said with a shrug, " Look, is that what you wanted to talk to me about..?"

" It can wait…" Sam said stifling a yawn, " Suddenly I feel really tired…"

" Just take a nap, I'll be back soon…" Dean said hesitantly as he hovered near Sam. " You sure you're gonna be ok…?"

" I can look after myself Dean…" Sam said with a weak smile, " Seriously, stay out, have a good time, I'll search the house myself…"

" Alright.." Dean said with a nod as he pocketed his keys, " You smell any sign of trouble, you call…"

" Yes sir…!" Sam said giving him a mock salute.

" Try and stay out of trouble.." Dean scowled as he disappeared through the front of the apartment, quietly locking the door behind him.

Sam curled up on the sofa allowing sleep to devour him, maybe Dean was right; taking a nap seemed like a good idea…

XxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean swallowed as he jogged down the steps to the beach house and wondered to the under step where he'd earlier parked the Impala.

Dear lord, he hoped to God he was doing the right thing.

He felt like he'd just betrayed Sam.

Like he'd violated some sort of brotherly code of conduct.

Dean felt like a sell out.

He shouldn't lie to Sam.

Then again it wasn't like he wasn't used to it, he'd been lying for the past two and a half weeks to him.

But slipping him tablets without him knowing, opening the capsules up and mixing it into his Sammy's coffee; that had just felt wrong.

Yet he'd done it.

It was too late to turn back now….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**(laughs evilly) Hands up who knows something is about to happen….you can just feel it can't you..!? LOL. I would like to say that next update will be Friday, but with this site I never know. Fingers crossed. Oh and if you get a chance, please do leave a review. Thanks for reading….**


	7. Fury

**Thought I'd put this up a little early for you guys to get your teeth into. Judging from the response on chapter 6, I'm gonna assume that the alerts aren't working very well. Fingers crossed for chapter 7 eh..?**

**Bit of an intense chapter coming up, it'll earn its T rating now.**

**(Chuckles evilly) Enjoy….**

Chapter 7- Fury

Sam Winchester's hazel eyes flickered open slowly. His hand gently went to his throbbing head. He felt like he'd been bashed around the head by a crow bar. His eyes ached when open, but he stubbornly pushed himself slowly, awkwardly, into a sitting position on the sofa. His entire body felt stiff.

…_Maybe I'm coming down with the flu…_ Sam thought as his arm wobbled under his weight, and gave out, his body crashing back onto the sofa, his face lightly hitting the cushions again.

If it was the flu that Sam believed he was coming down with, it was the most bizarre flu he'd ever had in his entire life. He was feeling almost lifeless, weak; worse than when he'd actually come out his coma.

Taking in a deep ragged breath, he forced himself again into a sitting position and this time made sure gravity wouldn't pull him back down. Slumping down in his seat, his head bobbling around on his shoulders like a heavy bowling ball, he struggled to look at the clock on the wall in front of him.

It had just gone 9pm.

He'd been out for over two hours.

Sam felt his skin grow cold instantly, that wasn't normal at all.

He needed a drink, something, anything, to snap him out of the way he was feeling.

The beach house was deserted, eerily silent as the dark living room was illuminated only by the moon which flooded the room with the night light through the glass veranda doors.

Summoning what little strength he had, he pulled himself slowly, awkwardly into a standing position.

Actually, that felt better than sitting down.

With the mist slowly fading from his head, he stumbled over to the wall and snapped on the living room light. The two long strip lights flickered and came to life. Walking slowly, Sam shuffled into the kitchen, picked up a glass and filled it with tap water, which he slowly raised to his lips.

It was then he noticed his hands.

They were shaking vigorously.

The water splashed around on his chin as he forced himself to try and keep steady as he slurped the water down in frantic gulps. He then stared confused at the large dome shaped lamp on the table by the front door which was switched on.

……_Dean must have turned it on before he left……_

Sam's smiled at the thought of his elder brother Dean. He was glad that Dean was out enjoying himself, he was also glad that Dean had trusted him enough to leave him by himself. A small smile played on Sam's lips, looks like he really would be home alone tonight, well, at least until the small hours of the morning; especially if Dean had anything to do with it.

Sam sighed and shuffled out the kitchen, snapping off the light and jumped, a startled noise leaving his mouth as the glass slipped out his hand and shattering on the wooden floor.

Sam slowly opened his eyes and a smile baited to his lips, a hand against his overly beating heart.

The figure stood in the entrance of Sam's bedroom, a sick smile on his face, his hazel green eyes filled with a dark intensity Sam could not see.

" Dean you scared the hell out of me…" Sam said with a nervous chuckle, " I didn't even know you were back.."

Dean's hands gently massaged the lead pipe he had in his hand, the cold steel bringing unknown comfort to him.

" What happened to your night out..?" Sam asked as he took a step forward as Dean slowly sauntered over to him, tapping the pipe in his hand. Sam stared at the pipe and then looked at his brother slowly, dressed in the exact same outfit he'd left in, the only difference was that everything was now black.

The darkness lit up Dean's eyes as a smirk marred Dean's usually handsome face. Sam swallowed as he begun to back off.

" I didn't even hear you come back in…" Sam said feebly, slowly backing off back towards the veranda; now desperately looking for a way out.

" **Things didn't go to plan…"** Dean growled, **" The girls just weren't interested, and you want to know why…?"**

Sam looked at Dean; he couldn't even recognise his brother. The pipe dropped to the sofa and Dean took out his .45 from his back and aimed it straight at Sam's head.

" **You ruined everything again…"** Dean said shooting the gun, the bullet whizzing past Sam and shattering the veranda door.

" **They didn't want to party…"** Dean said with a shrug as he dived across the room as Sam more in fear than in defence tried to wriggle free from Dean who desperately tried to pin Sam down. Instinctively, Sam kicked Dean straight off him as Sam scrambled to his feet.

" Dean, this isn't you…" Sam said as he his hand reached for the emergency shot gun placed under the sofa he'd earlier been sleeping on, his hands found nothing but empty space.

" **If it's not Dean, then pray tell little brother; who the hell is it…?"** Dean growled as he took another step towards Sam, seeing the panicked look on Sam's face when he realised the gun was gone.

Sam, still on his hands on knees, slowly raised his head and looked up at Dean who stood over him, his eyes dark, evil, filled with an intensity that chilled Sam to his soul.

" Dean, look at me…" Sam whispered as he wasn't sure what to do.

" **I don't want to look at you…"** Dean whispered, as he knelt down slowly in front of Sam and held his face in his hands. Sam's eyes widened when he saw the butterfly knife that his own brother carried appeared straight into Dean's hand. **" I'm sick to death of looking at you, looking after you…"**

" **I want to peel the skin from your bones Sam…"** Dean whispered, his hands gripping Sam's face tightly, **" And then burn the goodness out of your soul…"**

" DEAN…!!!" Sam screamed as he reeled back just as the blade was unleashed inches from his face. Scrambling to his feet he ran towards the front door and found the dead bolt on.

Spinning around, his heart hammering in his chest, his head swinging violently, he saw Dean less than ten feet away swinging the door keys at him.

" **You're not going anywhere Samuel…"** Dean said evilly, **" Not until I'm finished with you…"**

" And when will you be finished…?" Sam managed to ask, frantically trying to drive home to himself that this, thing, this evil entity standing in front of him, may look, sound, fight and have same straight ass mouth as his Dean; but this was not his Dean.

" **Always got something to say, eh little brother..?"** Dean asked as he looked at the knife in his hand. **" Just doesn't know when to shut up…"**

" You're not my brother…" Sam growled his eyes darting around looking for anything he could use to get this Dean-like bastard the hell away from him. The pieces to this hazy mess was beginning to make sense, now all he had to do was stay alive long enough to buy the real Dean some time to figure it all out himself.

" **You don't get to disown me…"** Dean said taking another step towards Sam. **" And I am your brother, want me to prove it..?"**

" What the hell do you want..?" Sam growled his voice gravel filled as he tried to keep himself upright.

Damn this friggin situation and the shitty way he was feeling. Sam was no fool, there was no way he could out fight this guy, not the way he was feeling. He'd be killed by this guy.

" **I want you to believe in me Sam…" **Dean said walking straight up to Sam now, his hand bracing on the door blocking Sam's path. **" What will it take for you to believe in me Sam..?"**

Sam shoved Dean away with both hands as hard as he could, and he watched as Dean staggered back and laughed. Sam fell to his knees at the table by the door, his hands frantically searching for the knife he'd seen Dean put in there himself.

" **What's the matter, a little scared..?"** Dean whispered in his ear, the cold metal blade of Dean's knife pressing against his neck. Sam suddenly gasped loudly when the blade slowly sunk into his skin, he could smell the coppery smell of his own blood.

" **Easy tiger…"** Dean teased, **" All that movement, could get yourself all cut up, now we don't want that to happen now do me. At least not yet…"**

Sam closed his eyes as Dean slowly walked away. His heart racing, he turned just in time to see Dean slide the knife over to him.

Sam stood up slowly, the knife sliding inches from his bare feet. His hazel eyes locked with Dean's and Dean beckoned him towards him.

" **Come on little man, I know you've wanted to take a pop at me since today.."** Dean said with a shrug, **" After all, I pissed you off by wishing you were dead, by telling you the truth about why dad really went on the hunting trip…"**

" Shut up…!" Sam shouted at him, as he snatched the knife up from the floor.

" **Oooohhh, a reaction.."** Dean said laughing loudly, **" Better record this Kodak moment…"**

" I don't know who the hell you are, or what the hell you are…" Sam seethed, " But you just chose the wrong family to piss off…"

Dean's trademark smile danced on his face and for half a second Sam because confused.

This thing, his facial expressions, his movements, everything, it was too much like Dean.

" **Actually, it was you that pissed my family off…" **Dean explained as he walked back towards the sofa, **" You murdered my mom.."**

" She was my mom as well.." Sam growled, then realised that he was having argument with god knows what. " Don't ever speak about her like you knew her…"

" **Oh but I did, I had four years with her Sam, how long did you have with her..?"** Dean pushed. **" I mean, I used to lie there at night wondering if I wrote to Santa Clause, could I swap you for her…"**

" Stop pretending to be him…" Sam hissed as he flicked the blade open on the knife. The snap of the blade caused a smile to flicker to Dean's face. " You're not him..!"

" **Ooh, pushing the buttons now are we Sam..?"** Dean teased as he reached onto the sofa and picked up his gun he'd left there.

" Shut up, shut the fuck up…!!" Sam shouted which only made Dean laugh.

" **You know there is nothing more funny than you swearing, you sound ridiculous…"** Dean kidded, **" Sounds like a foreign language…"**

Angrily, Sam shook his head as he watched as Dean pointed the silver .45 to the ceiling. It wasn't until the trigger was pulled did Sam Winchester realise what Dean had done. He'd shot the light out in the room, spilling the room with glass.

Sam gritted his teeth as he forced his eyes to try and adjust to the sudden darkness.

He didn't even have time to draw breath when his legs vanished from under him and a rain blows homed in on him…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester pushed open the door to the bar and inhaled the smoky atmosphere which was tinged with alcohol.

Man it was good to be home.

Dean spotted Lydia waving at him, and his heart sunk. God she looked stunning in her vest top and short denim skirt.

Heading over to the booth, Dean noticed than there was another guy there, the dark haired jock from the carnival.

" Dean, this is Cameron…" Lydia said with a grin, " He's ermm, Sandy's date…"

" Date..?" Dean said little confused.

" Yeah, we're gonna have a few drinks with you guys and ermm, then head off…" Cameron said with a nod as he roughly shook Dean's hand and signalled for the waiter to come over.

Sandy shot Dean a sheepish look and Dean looked pointedly at Lydia.

" Look, it's like I told you on the phone, another night ok…" Dean said, " I've got to get back home..?"

" Yeah you said your brother wasn't up to partying tonight.." Lydia said with a shrug, " Doesn't mean you have to miss out.."

" I kind of promised him that I'd be back early…" Dean lied as he felt the guilt the radiating off Sandy.

He couldn't believe that Sandy would have blown out Sam like this; Dean was secretly relieved now that Sam had decided not to come. He'd have never have heard the end of it.

" Look, you're not his nurse maid, I'm sure you're bro will be fine, look, just call whatshisname and tell him that Dean's staying out to play tonight.." Lydia teased with a grin as the waiter returned with a bottle of JD and four shot glasses.

" His name is Sam.." Dean muttered as he watched as Cameron poured the drinks out.

" Well Sammy can look after himself…" Sandy said with a shrug as he knocked back the whiskey and handed a glass to Dean.

" Don't call him Sammy…" Dean said moodily as he knocked back the drink and looked at Lydia and felt a smile float to his face.

" See, wasn't that fun…" Lydia said with a giggle, " Now come on Dean, why don't you tell us all about yourselves…"

Sighing, Dean slid into the booth beside Lydia and begun one of his many rehearsed stories about himself and his family. Using the agreed name of Lawson, Dean explained that they were on vacation from Kansas and waiting for their father to join them. On being asked what they did for a living, Dean went with his old favourite of being a freelance journalist while Sam was taking a year out of college; for the move of course.

Dean poured himself another drink and grinned as everyone downed it at the same time, whiskey burning its way down into his gut.

Ok, maybe Sammy was right. He could stay out and enjoy himself.

Just this once…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam clawed his way hysterically around the room in the darkness, he was disorientated and he could smell the blood, his own blood all over his body.

He was bleeding from what Dean had done.

He'd fought back, with every ounce of strength, but just couldn't get a good move in. It was almost like Dean was incapable of feeling anything inflicted on him by Sam.

" You know when we were younger, I asked dad for a dog…" Dean said standing in the kitchen, cleaning the blood off his knife with a kitchen cloth. " I couldn't get one because you wanted a cat…"

Sam stayed quiet in his hiding place wedges between the two sofas. His heart sunk at what his brother had said. This really was Dean, his Dean, the brother that had been by his side his entire life, protected him from anything; and now he'd finally snapped.

Only Dean would remember that conversation.

" What kind of guy wants a cat over a friggin dog..?" Dean demanded as his eyes scanned the room trying to pick out where his little brother was trying to take refuge this time.

The place was a bomb site, everything that could be broken was, the tv screen smashed through, the sofas, tables, chairs, lamps all over turned and smashed on the floor, the bedrooms were all destroyed, well all accept one. He couldn't destroy his own now; where would he sleep.

" You don't think I wanted my freedom..?" Dean hissed, " You don't think I had dreams..? I wanted to go to college and have fun, get an education, become something, but you had to ruin it all…"

Sam had to clamp a blood soaked hand to his mouth to stop himself responding. He knew it was what Dean wanted, that way he could find him.

Then again, how hard would it be for Dean to find him, they were fighting in only three rooms…!"

" I always wanted to be a detective.." Dean said with a grin, even in the pitch darkness he could see Sam, huddled like a frightened child between the fallen sofas.

That's what he wanted. That was the point.

To scare the shit out of him.

To put the fear of God into the youngest Winchester.

To make him believe that Dean hated him.

To make him understand that everyone hated him.

To make him truly comprehend that the one person who loved him, the key, was the one person who could destroy Sam.

Sam would put his heart, soul, faith in his big brother. Sam would die to save Dean. Sam would do anything to give his big brother his freedom to be happy, to spare him from the supernatural world that Sam held himself responsible for.

Dean would do anything to save Sam. Full stop.

Now it would be interesting to test that theory. To see how far Dean would actually go to save Sam.

The man with the hazel green eyes continued to admire the blade he was cleaning. God it was fun screwing with people's heads.

Especially psychics.

They automatically assume that they're immune from mind manipulation but with the right medication and right amount of pressure, they were just as vulnerable to intrusion as your average man.

Sam had surpassed vulnerable about an hour ago.

Instead the youngest Winchester was destroyed mentally, not fully convinced that his own brother had beaten the hell out of him physically and battered him mentally.

The man smiled as his hazel green eyes scanned the room.

He knew Sam. The physical scars would heal, but the mental ones wouldn't.

He'd never fully trust Dean ever again.

It was that tiny little bit of doubt, that little niggling thought in the back of the young psychic's mind; that's what the master wanted.

Sighing out loud, Dean headed over to the sofa and could imagine the tense panicked feeling that was running through Sam at that precise moment.

Dean heard the scrambled, quiet movements of Sam trying to get away. Dean watched and rolled his eyes.

This boy just didn't know when to lie down and stay dead.

His big brother would just have to show him how.

" **Sam..?"** Dean whispered trying to keep the chuckle out of his voice, **" Sam, I'm sorry for all of this, I don't know what's happened in here. I don't know what's going on..?"**

Sam Winchester had just about made it to his destroyed bed room, he was in the doorway when his big brother's voice came across the room towards him. It was filled with remorse, confusion, worry; just like his Dean.

" **Why are there no lights..?"** Dean whispered, **" Sam, where are you, I can barely see my own hand in front of my friggin face in here…"**

Shaking with uncertainty, Sam gingerly forced himself in to a bowed standing up position. His chest was killing him, and the slash marks on his arms were burning; yet he had to ignore it, Dean needed him.

" Dean..?" Sam whispered in the darkness. " Is that really you..?"

" **Of course it's me, who else is it going to be…?"** Dean muttered as he tried again not to laugh as he watched Sam's innocent silhouette in the darkness.

Ah, that naive little child thinking that his big brother was back to save him.

" Oh thank god…" Sam whispered, " Dean I don't know what's happening myself, I'm so confused.."

Dean Winchester walked over to Sam reached behind his physically shaking little brother and snapped on Sam's bedroom light. Standing in the doorway, Dean expertly wiped the smirk off his face as he stared into Sam's hazel eyes which were searching his face.

" We need to get out of here now…" Sam whispered as he leaned heavily against the door frame, he could taste the blood in his mouth from the split lip he had. He could feel the grazes on his cheek bone burning; the glass in his palms and in his feet killed.

Yet he didn't care, Dean was here, he was back. He'd know what to do. He always did.

" **Who did this to you..?"** Dean said gently taking his hands and reaching up cupping the back of Sam's neck.

" I think a shapeshifter or possession or something, I don't know exactly…" Sam whispered as he closed his eyes at Dean's touch, relief washing over him. " You can put the knife down, I think he's gone now…"

He was safe. His Dean was back and Sam was now safe.

"**I was sure that Dean had done this…?"** Dean hissed at Sam staring deep into the boy's eyes that stared into him. Dean grinned as he saw the panic reach Sam's eyes.

" Did what..?" Sam asked in confusion, consciousness fighting him every step.

Sam's eyes widened when for just a second he saw it again, the evil cold glint that shone in his brother's hazel green eyes. The fury that was often the root of Dean's anger, anger aimed only at Sam

" Dean….no…" Sam whispered his voice caught in his throat as the knife slashed violently into his side.

Dean Winchester watched as Sam slumped to the floor, his blood induced body staining the white frame work as it fell lifeless to the floor.

Dean looked at the knife in his hand and leaving the blade open tossed it towards the shattered veranda door.

With a bright smile on his face, Dean Winchester's body exploded into a burst of black swarms and headed out the shattered glass door of the veranda.

Everything was going like clockwork….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**One word: Uh-oh……..See you guys next update and please if you do get a chance, leave a review; it's the only way I know what's going on in your head !LOL**


	8. Homewards

**Thanks to those who took the time to submit a review, it's always great to hear from you guys.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**On with 'Homewards'**

Chapter 8- Homewards

Dean Winchester's hazel green eyes flickered open and he moaned gently. His bare skin rubbed against the burgundy silk sheets as he lazily turned from his side and onto his back.

Forcing his alcohol filled eyes open he laid there a couple of minutes examining the ceiling of the room he was in.

He wasn't even sure where he was.

But he knew who he'd been with.

A grin spread across his handsome face as he snuck a look over at the sleeping Lydia.

Man that girl had given him a thorough work out; muscles he'd not even realised that had gone into hiding had come out to play during their sessions.

…_.That girl was wild in the bedroom and even wilder when… _

Dean rubbed his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself up, he then stared at his wrist and realised that somewhere along the line his watch had come off. Now was that on their way to the bedroom, in the hall, the kitchen, or some other place he just couldn't quite remember.

A small tinge of guilt did run through him.

He hadn't checked in with Sam in the last few hours and knew his little brother must be worried; it was typical Sammy.

Reluctant to leave the comfort and warmth of the bed, Dean forced himself to the edge and with a smile of more embarrassment, realised that he was butt naked. Forcing his eyes to start picking things out in the room, he silently managed to find his jeans, shirt and one of his sneakers, but the elder Winchester had no idea where the other sneaker was or his underwear. He spotted his watch beside his left sneaker and glanced at the time.

His mouth fell open in shock.

It was almost 4am.

It wasn't like Dean had a curfew, shoot he'd never ever had a curfew growing up, but that had been from trust and constant communication via phone calls to his father or brother. Besides the only time he ever went out was to shoot pool, knock back some beers or to chase some skirt. He had never been out with friends just for a night out.

Dean Winchester didn't have any friends.

Just family.

Now he'd been gone for over nine hours. Dean groaned inwardly, he'd hate it if Sam had done it to him, not even a text message or nothing to say where he was, so Dean knew that Sam would be pissed at him; and rightly so.

Dean slipped his sneaker on and once standing fished around in his jeans pocket and found his cell phone. He opened it and couldn't help but be surprised that there were no messages from Sam questioning where he was, or a nervous voicemail from his kid brother asking him how his night was going, or any missed calls.

Dean made a face as he shut the phone off and headed towards the bedroom door.

Lydia stirred in her sleep and Dean cringed, he so did not want her to wake up. It wasn't like he planned on the whole loving and leaving routine, he had every intentions of calling the blond hottie, and every intention of having a repeat performance and possible even an encore; but right now he had to get back to Sam.

Cracking open the bedroom door, Dean paused when he spotted his black boxers sitting over the lamp near the entrance to the bedroom. Grabbing his under garment, he shoved it into a ball in his palm and slipped out the bedroom, taking one last look at the gorgeous Lydia.

Finding himself in the hallway of the house, he could hear groans and noises coming from another bedroom.

Obviously Sandy and Cameron had returned as well and were at the moment a little bit too busy to notice Dean wondering by the girl's room.

A wicked thought crossed Dean's mind as headed down the steps and into the hall downstairs where he spotted his right sided sneaker which he promptly slipped on.

He was actually glad that Sam had not come along tonight.

Dean hadn't been too keen on the way Sandy had been acting all night, the way she'd just been looking for a one night stand, and had obviously put that label on Sam. Dean shook his head as he headed for the front door.

Sam wasn't that type of guy, he would bet his life that Sam had never had a one night stand in his entire life; the guy thought too much with his upstairs brain and always involved emotion in everything.

It was one of Sam's greatest failures, yet one of the things that Dean admired about his brother more than anything.

Sam was too good for this Sandy chick. It had been a blessing that his little brother hadn't come along. Dean would make sure that Sandy the blond-headed-one-night-stand-chick never clapped eyes on his little brother again.

As Dean stood on the porch, the cool night air instantly removed the stale alcohol that had been wafting around his head. He knew he'd had a shit load to drink, he was sure they'd finished at least two bottles of JD, a bottle of tequila, and had a few beers thrown into the mix as well.

Groaning when he didn't see the Impala outside, Dean realised his prize possession must still be at the bar he'd been at. Dean had the vacant memory of riding in a youth and sure enough, there was a green one parked not too far away from him. Sighing out loud, Dean was suddenly really appreciative that he'd managed to find his missing sneaker.

He had one hell of a walk ahead of him.

With a wrinkled expression on his face, Dean stared at his watch and slipped out his phone. It was almost 4am now. His finger hovered over Sam's cell number and for half second he was tempted to call his brother and ask him to pick up the Impala while he walked back to the beach house, but changed his mind and slipped his phone back in his pocket.

It was too cruel to ring your little brother, wake him up and then ask him to haul his ass out of bed and go get your car which you drunkenly left in some parking lot.

He wondered if Sam had actually woken up from the sofa.

Dean tried to reassure himself, persuade himself that he'd done the right thing. It was a cocktail of drugs he'd slipped into Sammy's coffee. A combination of sedatives, painkiller and of course the anti-inflammatory tablets the doctor had issued Sam.

It wasn't against the law or anything; well, not as far as Dean was concerned. He was just being a good brother, looking out for his Sammy, making sure the boy took the medication that his little brother oh so conveniently constantly kept forgetting to take.

Dean didn't understand Sam.

How could Sam not see the improvement he was making when he was on the medication, the minute the stuff worked out his system, he became ill and unbeknown to Dean, Sam just couldn't see it. That bothered Dean more than he was willing to admit.

The fact that Sam seemed to be giving up. Caving in.

Everything was getting to Sam and it was getting to Dean.

Just in the diner earlier, Sam's eyes had been raw red, like when he was a child had had got upset and burst into tears and fled; too embarrassed to be caught crying. Dean sighed at the memory; it had driven their father mad. John Winchester hated tears, it was the biggest sign of weakness and that alone made Sam scared to express emotion.

He'd been like that today, Sam had been upset by something and had cried about it, by the time he'd got back to the diner the tears had dried up, but the tell tale signs were all still there for Dean.

Dean couldn't think about what had made Sam so upset, but Dean wanted, needed to know. He needed to know so he could find the son-of-a-bitch and kick the shit out of it.

Then there was the whole demon spirit thing. The spirit that was stalking Sammy that Dean couldn't find any evidence to.

Sam's behaviour was getting worse, and it worried Dean like hell.

……_But not to worry, as long as Sam keeps taking those tablets he'll be fine, just fine…._

Shaking his head, Dean started the walk down the road. He could not believe that he'd left his car, his, car, alone and abandon outside some bar.

…_If anyone has done anything to her, I'll friggin kill them…._

Dean sighed and glanced again at his watch.

Who on earth could he argue with, he only had himself to blame….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

All he wanted to do was go lie in the tub.

His feet ached and even though he was driving he knew he shouldn't have been, he'd almost nodded off twice at the wheel, the second time just catching himself before he ended up in a local's hedge.

So nothing had happened to the black beauty of an Impala. Well, nothing Dean could see in the dark.

The sun was just beginning to break through and as Dean parked his car under the house, he glanced one last time at his watch and stifled a yawn and climbed the steps. He'd just got to the third step when he realised he'd left his boxers in the car.

Shooing the thought of going all the way back down those three steps and to the car, a sleepy Dean climbed the remaining steps in the dimly lit sky and stood on his decking, the sound of the sea comforting and lulling.

…_.No wonder Sam loves it out here….._

It was peaceful, pain free and with out any ramification. It just felt like good, clean, wholesome fun.

Once at the top of the deck, Dean's eyes widened.

And then he froze.

Any ounce of alcohol that had been plaguing his mind quickly disappeared without a second thought.

The veranda had been smashed through and Dean could see into his living room; the entire place had been trashed.

" Oh my god…" Dean whispered the colour draining from his cheeks as he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his hands and clumsily unlocked the sliding door pushing the frame back.

Stepping into the living room, the shattered glass crunched unceremoniously under Dean's sneakers, and from the dim amount of light filtering through the room, Dean spotted his butter fly knife near his feet.

He bent down slowly and picked it up and his blood ran cold.

There was blood on it.

" SAM..!?" Dean screamed, his heart hammering violently in his chest, his hair standing on end. The cold sensation of dread over running his body. " Sammy, where are you…?"

…_Oh god where the hell is he..?..._ Dean thought as he took an unsteady step towards the sofa area and headed for the light switches. Dean frantically flicked them back and forth and none of them snapped on.

" SAM…!?" Dean shouted again, " For God sakes Sammy, answer me…!"

Running rapidly, crashing and stumbling over fallen furniture Dean's knee brushed the lamp that had been on the table by the front door. He fiddled with the switch and with what small amount of mercy that still hovered around, Dean gave a triumphant cry when the room was illuminated by the small light.

Dean's eyes took in the room, and he physically had to stop himself from switching it back off again.

It wasn't the fact that the entire house was trashed; it was the blood that scared the hell out of Dean.

It was everywhere.

And then he saw him.

Sitting with his back against the door frame of his bedroom covered in blood.

His eyes wild and wide.

Dean slowly crawled over to Sam and his heart plummeted when he saw the condition his brother was in. Anger quickly replaced his fear when he saw the vacant look in Sam's eyes.

It was then Dean realised that Sam hadn't even realised that he was there.

" Sammy..?" Dean whispered as he watched Sam, his knees drawn to his chest, rocking backward and forwards slowly, his chin resting on his hands.

His eyes vacant.

Non-existent.

His dark shaggy brown hair almost concealing his entire face. It did nothing to hide the battering he'd taken; it did nothing to hide the blood pouring from his arms, his lip, his cuts all over his face.

Dean swallowed, and forced himself not to shake the life back into his brother.

Sam had clearly gone into a state of shock.

Either that or he'd had a nervous break down.

Both possibilities were too scary for Dean to understand or even begin to comprehend.

So Dean did the only thing he knew how to do.

He took care of Sammy.

Unplugging the lamp and taking it into the kitchen with him he went about trying to keep his voice down, keep himself quiet, keep himself busy; anything but even whisper what was really over taking him inside.

Blind rage.

How the hell could this have happened..? What the hell had happened..?

Sam wasn't even talking to him, not even looking at him.

He was gonna find the bastard that had broke into here, find them and kill them. Tear them limb from limb, torture them in ways only a hunter could know, take them apart like only a Winchester could do.

Dean caught a look at his own hands as he poured the hot water from the kettle into bowl; he was shaking.

The rage building with no vent to escape.

…_Take care of him first, kill frigging unsuspecting bastard later…._ Dean ordered himself as he headed back to Sam.

Swallowing, Dean knelt down onto his knees and saw Sam was still rocking back and forth, and Dean's heart sank.

He knew he had to talk to him try and bring him out of that safe, little world that Sam's consciousness had retreated into.

Boy, at that precise moment Dean wouldn't have minded heading in there as well, it beat the shit out being where he was right now- in friggin hell.

" Sammy, I know you can hear me…" Dean said voice deep, husky, but frantically trying to keep his anger out of it. He wasn't angry at Sam, oh god no, but who was to say that Sam wouldn't think that.

Dean gently soaked the tea cloth into the hot water and wiped some of the blood off Sam's face. A small part of Dean hoped the heat of the water would snap Sam out of this.

Dean shook his head, he couldn't do this. He needed answers. Now.

" Sam how many were there…? Did you get a look at them..?" Dean stormed as his hands cupped Sam's face forcing his brother to look into eyes.

Sam's terrified hazel eyes locked with the knife Dean still had next to his side.

" Sammy..?" Dean shouted, " What the hell happened…?"

Sam's eyes were wild as he frantically tried to pull away from Dean, but enraged at the situation; Dean hung on.

" I'll kill them, I'll fucking kill them…!" Dean stormed as he stared into Sam's eyes. " Come on Sam, talk…-"

Dean reeled back and fell in surprise when Sam dived across him, the bowl of water unceremoniously spilling all over the beech coloured floor.

Dean scrambled back at Sam's bizarre behaviour, wondering what had startled his little brother; Dean clambered to his feet.

Dean had no choice but to freeze.

The knife was shaking violently in Sam's nervous hand.

Too shaky against Dean's throat.

One false move from either of them.

One dodgy step from the other.

Dean barely dared to swallow, the blade to his own friggin knife poked just inches from his Adam's apple. Sam had only one advantage over Dean, his height, and boy was the freakishly tall kid using it tonight.

Dean gingerly held his palms up in surrender.

What else could he do..?

" Sammy…." Dean said in as calm a voice as he could manage with the situation given to him. " It's me, Dean, I know you're…-"

" Shut the fuck up…" Sam growled, " I'm done listening, now you listen to me. You got all of five seconds to tell me who the hell you are, who sent you and what you want from my family…"

" Wow, I can't even think of the last time you swore…" Dean said, which caused him to roll his eyes.

He so needed to think things through before he opened his mouth.

" If you've touched him, if you've laid one finger on my brother, I swear to God I will hunt every single one of you son of a bitches down and slaughter every fucking single one of you…" Sam seethed, his blood slicked hand finding it increasingly difficult to hold the knife.

The effort it was taking to hold the knife up right, to keep the stance, to keep his strength.

Screw that, the effort it was taking to just stand up.

It looked so much like Dean.

Even that stupid wise crack about his cursing. That had sounded so much like Dean.

His Dean.

His brother.

Not the monster that had been in here and slaughtered him an inch from his life.

Sam wouldn't even look at his side; he could feel the sticky, tackiness from the blood. He didn't even want to catch site of his reflection. He knew he looked a sight, he could smell his own blood all over his body.

Everywhere hurt.

God, where was Dean when he needed him. Why was Dean behaving like this…?

Sam's hazel eyes tried to take in the confused man in front of him.

God it looked so much like his Dean. So much like the brother he loved. The brother he needed to obviously protect.

If only he could make sense of what was happening.

At first he had, he thought he had had it all worked out.

Evil friggin spirit, screwing around with his mind, making him see things. Evil frigging spirit screwing with reality, making Dean ignore all the glaringly obvious signs that there was a spirit, a demonic spirit which could make Sam see things and people.

Like evil Dean.

There was no such thing as evil Dean.

Sam shook his head in confusion.

Of course there was evil Dean, he'd seen evil Dean, met him several times during their hunts.

No, not evil Dean, just protective Dean who was a hunter.

Not evil Dean who would commit murder.

Not evil Dean who would kill his own brother.

Who would take the greatest pleasure in taking the very knife Sam was now holding at him, and slicing his arms and telling him that he had to bleed him dry.

Sam shook his head.

Evil Dean had stabbed him.

A thought occurred to Sam; exactly how much blood had he lost tonight. More than he could count. Maybe he could collect it in a bowl and his brother could help him put it back inside of him later.

Sam laughed as he held the knife against the Dean in front of him.

He then clamped his free hand over his mouth. Why the hell was he laughing, there was nothing funny for him to laugh at. His own brother had stabbed him, had dried to bleed him dry tonight. There was nothing funny at all.

…_Dear Lord, I'm losing my mind…Hey I can hear my own thoughts, and I'm answering them, why am I answering them, I'm not supposed to be answering them….It's only when you answer them that you're mad…damn it I did it again…_

Sam stared at Dean and shrugged as he kept the knife still. He'd watched Dean's mouth moving the whole time, but hadn't been listening. Why should he..?

It was probably just another line to be used on him to lure him in…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester stared at Sam, his little brother Sammy and looked at the awkward way he was standing.

If it was one thing that always drove Dean mad without failure was Sam's stubborn streak.

And boy was it out in force tonight.

Sam had switched off, not listening at all to what Dean was saying and man was it pissing Dean off to no end.

He had to remember that he couldn't blame Sam. After all his little brother was freaking out, attacking anything that moved.

Trust Dean to walk in on this one, to leave a knife in Sam's reach for him to grab and then hold against his throat.

Dean rolled his eyes and wanted to pull his hair out.

How was he supposed to know that Sam would go nuts and grab a knife and hold him hostage for his own Adam's apple...?

How could one night go so friggin wrong..?

It was then Dean's eye caught the steady stream of red coming from his little brother's side.

" Sammy, what happened there..?" Dean whispered, his finger pointing to his brother's side. Completely forgetting about the knife, his eyes only focused on the blood. He already knew what had happened there; he just wanted to see if Sammy had.

" Oh that…?" Sam said laughing. That laugh. Even though it was filled with nerves and racking from tiredness, it was still music to Dean's ears.

" That's where you stabbed me you son of a bitch…." Sam whispered with a light laugh, " You know what the sad thing is, is that I know I'm gonna die, but Dean. Man you fucked up picking on us. He'll kill you. The real Dean. He'll kill you…"

Dean knew what it was, yet it still made his blood run cold hearing Sam say that he'd been stabbed.

" Sammy, I need to look at that…" Dean said gingerly taking a step forward, which forced Sam reluctantly to take a step back.

" Do that one more time and I'll cut your friggin head off…" Sam hissed pushing the knife a fraction further into Dean's throat.

Dean held his breath.

He didn't have time for this.

" Sammy, this is Dean, the Dean. The one and only…!" Dean muttered, " Now part of me is a little insulted that you can't even tell the difference between me and well, god knows who you're talking about…"

" Shut up…" Sam demanded, " Stop talking…"

" But whether you like it or not, I'm looking at that wound, because I am not having you bleed to death on me…" Dean stated in a matter of fact tone, " I'm your friggin big brother, now you listen to me, we can do this either the easy way or the hard way…"

Sam's eyes never softened, whatever this little man thought he was doing, was making some sense to Sam, but zero to Dean.

" Give me the knife Sam, now…" Dean demanded as he held out his palm.

Sam stared at Dean's out stretched hand in shock.

" No.." Sam whispered, " No way…"

" Wrong answer…" Dean muttered as he grabbed Sam's hand in one swift move and turned it back on him, he winced at the pain he knew he was causing Sam- but it was worth it.

The knife dropped to the floor with a clatter.

Sam tried to pull his hand back, but Dean held it firmly between his hands. Seeing no way out, fighting for his life, Sam lashed out at Dean.

Dean realising that Sam wasn't going to cooperate, dropped straight onto his back, pulling Sam down on him, with a knee in his brother's mid riff, he tossed Sam easily behind him.

Then Dean groaned.

Yup, that's right, the house had been trashed. All furniture had been moved. No sofa where he expected it to be.

Nope, just a heavy ass coffee table over turned, its leg sticking out.

He should have remembered that. He'd tripped over the friggin thing when he'd originally come in.

Dean rolled onto his stomach and saw Sam sprawled out on the floor.

Dean didn't need any lights to be turned on to know that Sam was unconsciousness.

Dean closed his eyes.

……_Great….Just fucking great…._

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Thanks for reading, please remember to leave a review if you can. See you all next update.. xxx**


	9. Crazy Talk

**Thanks to you everyone who reviewed. As always greatly appreciated by each and every one of you.**

**I just wanted to let you all know that I have finally figured out where this story is heading, and how it will actually end. Chapter numbers are not exactly complete in my head, but there are a good couple more to come after this one.**

**Oh and since I've had a few PM's about it, I thought I'd mention Papa Winchester. He's not dead in my stories, he's just well, erm, busy with other stuff (hints towards reading Forsaken), but defiantly not dead, and defiantly not forgotten about. He'll be back soon enough.**

**Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy 'Crazy Talk'….**

Chapter Nine- Crazy Talk

Dean Winchester sighed, as he returned from his bedroom having taken the chance to change his clothes in the momentary lapse of action.

It was still bothering Dean to why his room was the only part of their apartment that hadn't been trashed.

Now in navy cargo pants and a dark green t-shirt, Dean carried a blanket and a pillow out in his arms and over to where he'd plugged the lamp in.

Sam was still unconscious.

Or sleeping.

Dean wasn't quite sure, but he wasn't prepared to harass his little brother just yet. He needed to check on that wound.

Sighing, Dean quietly took the blanket and covered Sam with it, and as gently as he could, eased his brother's bleeding head off the floor and slipped the pillow under it. It satisfied Dean by a fraction to hear his brother's breathing was steady, if not a shade on the shallow side.

Sitting with his legs to the side, Dean moved the blanket a few inches and stared at Sam's blood soaked left side. Dean prayed that it was just a dodgy scratch that wouldn't cooperate. He hoped it was just left over blood and that the wound had started to clot now. Anything, but what he actually saw.

Swallowing deeply, Dean saw the wound.

Ok, so he'd got it wrong, Sam hadn't been stabbed. It was worse. He'd been slashed.

Dean took the towel and the new bowl of hot water, and as gingerly as he could, wiped the surrounding area, he winced in sympathy for Sam.

_...God Sammy, what have they done to you...I'll fucking kill them; I'll kill every single one of them..._

Dean paused when Sam stirred, his body automatically flinching at the pain. Dean gently took a hand and smoothed his brother's hair off his head, trying to settle him back down. He glanced again at his hand and thought he'd imagined it, he quickly moved his hand to his brother's grazed cheek and then his neck.

Sam had a very high fever.

Dean managed a smile for the sleep filled, pain riddled, hazel eyes that finally stared at him. He instantly felt Sam tense up, his hands already trying to push Dean away, his body trying to run.

" Hey, hey, hey..." Dean ushered gently, " It's ok, you're safe. Everything is going to be ok..."

Sam tried to raise his head, but eventually had to lower it. He just didn't have the strength to fight. Not now.

" You know who I am, right...?" Dean asked as he gently smoothed Sam's blood caked hair. Dean could still feel the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach.

" I, I..." Sam said forcing Dean's hands to stop work, " Don't you dare touch me..." Sam finally stammered out as he pushed the blanket off himself and struggled into a sitting position.

Dean stared at Sam in disbelief, the blood soaked cloth in his hand.

" Come on Sam, it's me..." Dean whispered, " You're hurt, you need help..."

" I need you to stay the hell away from me..." Sam said inching himself back against the wall, amongst the furniture, his eyes anxiously looking for a weapon.

Dean sighed; this was getting old, quick.

Sam sat with his back against the wall, his body shivering involuntarily, his hands juddering vigorously as he tried to wrap his arms around himself.

" You're gonna go into shock..." Dean said matter of fact style.

Sam never answered as he rested his chin on his hands, his body shaking as he tried to regain some sense of what was happening.

" Who, are you...?" Sam finally chocked out, " Who are you..?"

Dean closed his eyes trying to pull himself together, trying to hide his anger, trying to make Sam believe who he really was.

" It's me Sam, look at me, look into my eyes and tell me who you think I am...?" Dean said sliding over gently to Sam and kneeling in front of him.

Sam slowly lifted a shaking hand, his finger tips brushed Dean's cheek; tears spilling helplessly down Sam's terrified face.

Dean struggled to keep his composure as Sam crumbled in front of him.

" Help me.." Sam frantically whispered, his voice choking violently with sobs, " Dean, help me please..."

Sam's hands covered his face, his hands wondering from his head to his face frantically.

" Why are you doing this to me..." Sam stammered out, " Why did you do this..?"

Dean blinked the burning tears that were quickly filling his eyes.

" Sammy, I need you to take a deep breath and start from the beginning..." Dean said keeping his voice as steady as possible.

This wasn't the time to break down, one of them needed to stay in control and from the looks of it; it wasn't going to be Sam.

Sam just buried his face against his knees, his hands pulling at his dark hair.

" Sammy..." Dean said gently taking his hands and pulling Sam's grazed and bloody hands away from his head. " Sammy, look at me please..."

" Why do you hate me so much..?" Sam whispered as he looked at Dean's hazel green eyes, " You have no idea how much I care about you, that's why I don't understand any of this..."

And that was it.

Dean couldn't keep his composure anymore. He stood up and walked away, the tears already streaming down his face.

Angrily he wiped them away, his back turned to Sam.

" Do you know where I was last night...?" Dean finally asked, as Sam gave him a weak look. " I was out getting pissed with a couple of nobody's. I then went back to some girl's house and got lucky there..."

" No, not again..." Sam said covering his hands over his ears, " More lies again, I can't do this.."

" No Sam, no that is the god honest truth..." Dean said walking back to Sam and kneeling again in front of him, forcefully taking his humming brother's hands from his ears.

Tears caught in Dean's throat, angry, burning tears.

" You think I could do this to you..?" Dean whispered in disbelief, " You think I could physically do this to you. Physically beat the hell out of you..? I couldn't, I wouldn't Sam..."

" You did, I was there.." Sam snarled, " I looked into your eyes just like this and you...-"

" No..." Dean said grabbing Sam by his shoulders, " I would never do this..."

" All those cracks you've been making the last few days, all those evil things you've been saying and the looks you've been giving me.." Sam whispered as he tried to free himself meekly from Dean's grip. " Every single time, you've apologised, what makes this any different...?"

Dean stared at Sam in confusion.

" What wise cracks..?" Dean demanded, " What did I say to make you think that I would do this to you..?"

" Are you serious..?" Sam said with a chocked sob, " That crack about wanting me to die, that muttering about me not caring about anyone, telling me that I destroyed your life..?" Sam shouted at him, " You want me to keep going..?"

" No..." Dean said shaking his head, " No, I did not say those things..."

" You wished I'd stayed dead..." Sam said shaking his head, " Yeah well I got news for you, when the hell was I dead..?"

Dean staggered to his feet his mind reeling.

_...The spirit, oh my fucking God, Sam was right all along, there has been a spirit, the friggin Demon..._

Dean's shoulders slumped as he walked away towards the kitchen.

" Why didn't you just call me..?" Dean finally said from the kitchen, his body exhausted, and his mind minutes from giving up. The shock to the system was just too much.

" Call you..?" Sam snorted, " How the hell did you expect me to do that, I don't have a phone..!"

Dean looked at Sam strangely. Now that was odd.

" Sam, I gave you my old phone…-" Dean tried to say as Sam frantically kept shaking his head, Dean trying to get Sam to focus on him.

" No, you didn't, no you didn't…" Sam ranted repeatedly, " No you didn't, I'd know, I'd remember…"

" Sammy, my old phone it was locked in the trunk, remember..?" Dean said trying to coax the memory back in Sam's confused mind. " Think Sam, remember..?"

" Mine got wreaked in the crash…" Sam stammered out as he lifted his head to look at Dean, his hazel eyes wide and confused.

" That's right, that's right Sammy…" Dean said a small smile breaking onto his face. At least he was making progress. " When we got here, I found my old phone, found an old SIM card…"

" No.." Sam said shaking his head, " There's no phone, you're just messing with my memory, same way you tried to hide the book, and the camcorder and the lap top Dean.."

Dean shook his head, where on earth was all of this coming from..? Where were all these crazy accusations coming from..?

Dean scrambled to his feet and went back into his creepily clean room and snatched his cell phone off his bed. He hurried back into the living room and sat down beside Sam. He showed his little brother the phone.

" See..?" Dean said snapping open his phone and going through the directory until Sam's face appeared on the screen to call.

" No…" Sam stammered, " You never gave me a phone, why would I lie to you Dean..?"

Dean closed his eyes and hit call on his phone.

A ringing sound came from around the room that caused Sam to scream as he clamped his hands over his ears now frightened.

Dean doing his best to ignore the startled person trying to disappear into the wall behind him, followed the ringing sound and found the phone wedged under a sofa cushion.

Dean holding both cell phone's in his hand, watched as Sam's phone was lit up with the words 'Dean Calling' dancing around on the front of the screen.

Sighing deeply he walked back to Sam who was now bordering hysterical, the phones in his hands.

" That was not there Dean, that has never been there, you never gave me that..!" Sam yelled at him, " Dean you have to believe me, you never gave me that phone…"

" Let me have a look at that wound of yours.." Dean said quietly deciding to drop the touchy subject, " You're losing a lot of blood…"

" You don't believe me…" Sam said as tears begun to form in his eyes again, " You don't believe me, Dean I'm telling you the truth. Why would I lie about this..? Why would I lie to you..? Why are you behaving like this..?"

" Lie down…" Dean ordered, tiredness beginning to creep in, his mood becoming rattier, his own confusion growing too fast.

" You're smart, like super smart…" Sam said shaking his head trying to clear the mist, trying to avoid the sensations pulling him into sleep. " You're the one who is always telling me to follow my gut when things don't feel right.."

" Sam I don't have time for this.." Dean said over his brother's ramblings, " Can you walk..?"

" It doesn't feel right Dean, the house doesn't feel right…" Sam said in a steady voice, desperate for Dean to listen to him. " I would remember things like you giving me a phone, where we left the 'Key of Solomon' where you put the camcorder, why you hid the laptop from me…"

Dean never answered as he got up and headed towards the larger of the two sofas and with a couple of grunts turned it the correct way, and then looked over at Sam.

" Come on.." Dean said with a steady tone of his own. " You'll be more comfortable on this.."

" You're not even listening to me are you..?" Sam asked shaking his head, " What is wrong with you Dean..?"

" What's wrong with me..?" Dean finally said, " I come home to find you looking like an extra from a horror movie and my house looking like a set from one of the 'Die Hard' films…"

Dean bent down and with most of Sam's weight against him, helped his little brother onto the sofa. With Sam lying on his side Dean snapped the lamp on again and studied the wound. He made a face at the decision he'd come to.

" It's gonna need stitches…" Dean muttered as he sighed and ran a hand through his short brown hair. He slumped against the sofa, as he sat on the floor.

Of all nights to have gone out drinking.

" You're not even fit to drive Dean, and we can't call an ambulance…" Sam pointed out, " How would we explain this to them..?"

" We're not going to the hospital.." Dean muttered, " I'm gonna have to do it.."

Sam's eyes widened and he sighed dejectedly.

" Is it really that bad, can't we wait until the morning…" Sam asked in a hopeful voice, as he watched as Dean tiredly got to his feet and wondered between the fallen furniture and head into the kitchen.

Sam could hear him opening the cupboards and fridge.

" What are you looking for..?" Sam asked, even though he had a pretty good idea what.

" Vodka…" Dean said his voice heavy, " Anything…"

" We've only got beer and that is not even gonna work.." Sam said as he heard Dean moving around in the kitchen.

Ok it wasn't the first time they have had to stitch each other up. Sam was actually pretty good at it, after constantly having to stitch Dean up as he roguishly always got himself injured trying to protect his little brother. It drove Sam mad. Always had, always would. He had a feeling though that Dean never listened to him and would always try and to protect him no matter what, even if it meant Dean losing his own life. It was sometimes like Dean had no value on his own life, and that once again bugged the hell out of Sam.

Dean rarely had to patch Sam up with stitches. Sure there were the odd times when he'd get himself hurt, but the whole stitches thing was pretty rare. There was a rule though; whoever was getting stitched up always was allowed to get drunk to help dull the pain. Sam swallowed at a vivid memory that had taken place not too long ago.

Dean had got his shoulder slashed by a sickle, nasty business and it just wouldn't stop bleeding. They'd been in the middle of no where, and the smart ass spirit they'd been chasing had taken the front wheels off the Impala; to Dean's total horror.

Sam had no choice to stitch Dean up without any medicinal aids, and Sam never forgot the look on Dean's face when he'd done it. He'd been in agony for several days and he'd only had eight stitches put in.

It now looked like Sam would get a chance to sample it himself. He was in a lot of pain already, how much more could be take tonight…?

Dean returned with a glass of water and other things Sam wouldn't see on a tray. Sam watched as Dean righted the coffee table and pulled it close to him. Sam peeped into the tray and saw navy blue cotton and several needles, water, cotton wool and other things Sam no longer wanted to think about.

" Dean maybe we should call an ambulance.." Sam whispered as he looked at Dean, " You look exhausted.."

" And you look like shit.." Dean muttered his anger clear at the task he had to do. " Now, take these…"

Sam looked at the blue pills in Dean's hand.

" Pain killers..?" Sam asked with a sniff, " I don't think they'll help me.."

" It's the best I've got, besides you're gonna need something for the pain.." Dean muttered as he gingerly pulled Sam's t-shirt up.

" What I need from you Dean is for you to listen to me, not to patch me up like a freaking game of operation…" Sam said his voice worried, " It's like you've switched off…"

" You're scared, and you're worried and you're seeing things.." Dean finally said looking deep into his brother's hazel eyes, " You're confused Sam, all of this, the whole demon thing, the accident, moving away here, getting you out of hospital early…"

" Dean, no, it's nothing to do with that…" Sam pleaded with Dean trying to grab his mechanical brother's hand.

" I've been pushing you too much…" Dean said shaking his head, " Pushing you to get better, so we can be go back to the way things were; but they can't…"

" Dean, please…" Sam whispered as it slowly begun to dawn on Sam's mind what his elder brother was telling him.

Sam's mouth dropped open as his eyes locked with Dean's hazel green ones.

" You think I'm losing my mind don't you..?" Sam said with a dry chuckle, " You think I'm going crazy.."

" Not crazy…" Dean said keeping his voice steady, " Just exhausted, so this is what we're gonna do…"

" No, no, this is what we're gonna do…" Sam said forcing himself into a sitting position on the sofa, his body too exhausted to swing his legs off, " You're gonna go outside and come back in and start behaving like the Dean I know, my Dean…!"

" Just lie down and keep quiet…" Dean muttered tightly as he roughly shoved Sam back down by his shoulder.

" Dean I mean it…!" Sam snapped, " Look at me, look at this place…"

" Sam I swear to god, if you don't lie down and keep your mouth shut…" Dean threatened as he looked angrily at Sam.

His own anger at the situation, his fury at the circumstances of what he was doing; everything was beginning to get to him. He just wanted to thump something, kick the shit out of anybody, beat something into a bloody disgusting pulp; anything to get rid of this filthy rage that was building in him.

Or was that fear…?

Dean shook the feelings from his head, he needed to keep his head on, keep himself focused.

Sam stared at Dean with his famous bambi like expression his eyes large and innocent, hurt filled and confused. Dean just wanted to throw his arms around his little brother and hug him, to take the blanket and pull it over both of them and stay under it forever.

Away from creatures, spirits, ghosts and demons.

Away from it all.

Dean looked at the blanket on the floor by the wall.

Reluctantly, he walked over to it, picked it up and begun to try and cover his angry little brother. Sam trashed the blanket away, knotting it around his arm.

" Stop it Dean, stop pretending like you can't hear me.." Sam now demanded, " I need you, and you need to help me on this…"

" Sam, please just drink the tablets…" Dean said in a heavy voice. God he was tired.

" There's nothing wrong with me..!" Sam said as he pushed the glass of water from him.

" Sam…" Dean snapped, " You're burning up, you've got a fever god knows how high and you're spewing nonsense about ghosts and demons and evil Dean's…"

" Nonsense..?" Sam spat, " Thanks a lot Dean.."

Sam angrily stood up, almost knocking Dean over who was still kneeling in front of the sofa.

Dean hung his head.

Why was this so hard...?

" Where are you going..?" Dean asked in a quiet voice, " You're gonna die Sam if you don't let me look at you.."

" Look at me…" Sam spat as he picked his way in the increasingly brightening living room. " I don't even want to look at you, you son of a bitch. How dare you think I am crazy, how dare you Dean…!"

Dean watched as Sam spun and looked at him,

" I'll prove this to you and then what..?" Sam shouted, " Who, will be the liar…?"

" I'm not saying you're lying, you're just seeing things Sam, but we'll fix it, you and me, together, we'll fix it all…" Dean whispered.

" I hate you..." Sam whispered sounding more like an angry ten year old whose older brother hadn't allowed him to play ball with him and the other big kids.

" Yeah well, hate me as much as you want..." Dean said with a sniff, " Frankly after tonight I don't really give a shit.."

Sam chuckled dryly as he walked slowly, painfully towards the veranda door, leaning heavily on anything to help support the burden of his weight. He just wanted to go outside, smell the sea air, listen to the waves, stare at the sand; anything but stay in that beach house and listen to his elder brother accuse him of being a liar.

_...The rambles of a crazy man..._Sam thought to himself as he gingerly took another step forward. He no longer felt the pain in his side, he just felt light and fluffy.

A small smile baited to Sam's face, which considering the situation caused Dean's eyes to widen.

" Sammy..?" Dean asked curiously as he watched the goofy like expression spread across Sam's face.

" I can see myself..." Sam whispered in a shallow voice.

Dean who was still exhaustedly sitting on the floor beside the sofa gasped out loud when Sam's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his little brother hit the floor hard.

Scrambling over, Dean knelt at Sam's side. His hand hurriedly searched for a pulse and he barely felt one beating weakly. Dean wasn't thrilled at what he was having to do, especially with the last half sane words from Sam being the rather horrible phrase of 'I hate you', Dean realised that he was about to sink even further out of Sam's favour.

Picking up the tray with his equipment, Dean took the wad of cotton wool and poured the anti-septic wash onto it. Sucking in a deep breath, he carefully lifted the t-shirt and gently as he could, touched the very edge of the slash.

Sam's eyes snapped open in agony.

Dean reeled back expecting Sam to do something violent, but he was surprised when Sam wearily looked at him and lowered his head back onto the floor.

He finally nodded his head and Dean hesitantly held his hand again over the bloody wound. Dean stared at his shaking hand. God this was going to be hard.

" This is gonna hurt Sam, really hurt..." Dean admitted.

" Just do it all in one go, ignore me and just do it..." Sam said as he turned his face away from Dean, simply to spare his elder brother the visual.

Sucking in a deep breath, and avoiding the temptation to close his own eyes, Dean started to clean the wound.

He ignored Sam's gasps as best as he could, he tried to ignore how tense his brother was. He also tried to ignore the automatic defence reflex Sam's body threw up at the pain. Dean found himself having to keep a hand down on Sam's chest as his little brother's body involuntarily contorted.

It took Dean almost half an hour to clean the wound.

Staring at the needle, he opened his mouth to say something to Sam, something comforting and meaningful, yet nothing worthy of the situation fancied making an appearance.

" Do it.." Sam said in a small voice, as a violent gasp escaped his mouth as Dean pushed the needle straight into Sam's skin.

" Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..." Dean chanted as he hurriedly tried to stitch the wound up.

Screw the friggin cotton that kept getting knotted.

Dean every so often would peep over at Sam whose eyes were facing the veranda. They were glazed over in pain. Dean could only begin to imagine the agony Sam must be in, but to Sam's credit, he wasn't making much noise.

Either that or he'd bitten off his tongue.

Dean shook himself from that horrid thought.

The elder Winchester then counted the stitches he'd already put in. There were ten so far and he wasn't even half way...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Thirty stitches all together.

That's how many Dean Winchester had sewn into his little brother.

Dean leaned back against the wall and stared at Sam who was still on the floor.

" They'll pay for this Sam..." Dean whispered as he closed his eyes, his head resting against the wall, " I give you my word that I will find the son of a bitches that are screwing with you and kill them..."

Dean tilted his head in his brother's direction. He couldn't believe how ill, how confused, how deranged Sam was becoming. Something seriously was screwing with Sam's head. To make Sam dream up a situation like this. No way, that took power, serious freaking power.

There was only one person Dean knew that had power like that.

" Our friendly demon that likes to bring angels back from the dead..." Dean muttered.

Dean studied Sam's still form.

There was no chance of Sam hearing him say those words.

The younger Winchester had lost consciousness at stitch number thirteen...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**(sighs)Poor Sam, Dean doesn't believe a word he's telling him, no wonder he's angry. Poor Dean, he thinks his little brother is losing his mind. (grins) Well one of them is losing their mind, but which one..? Thanks for reading, and please review. See you all next update xxx**


	10. Believe In Me

**(bangs head) Thanksgiving, since Thanksgiving I've been trying to update. Geeze does this freakin site hate my guts. I get no email alerts, no messages, no updates, nada.**

**On a happier note, I am absolutely humbled by the amount of reviews I received for the last chapter. It really put a smile on my face and gave me the kick up the back side I needed to plough on with writing this story. So thank you all so much, reviews really are the fuel for a writer's fire.**

**I hope you all are still enjoying the story, I've been reading the reviews carefully and (grins) I can see some people are piecing together what is actually going on, without even realising it.**

**Thanks again for the reviews and without further babble, on with 'Believe in Me'…**

Chapter Ten- Believe in Me

Sam Winchester's eyes flickered open slowly, finally allowing for his eyes to focus on his surroundings. He was surprised to find himself in Dean's bed.

Confused to what he was doing there he turned his head in the direction of the door and almost jumped when he spotted Dean standing in the doorway a mug of something hot in his hand.

" Good morning…" Dean said trying to keep his voice light and happy.

" Hey…" Sam said in a drained voice.

Then the sleeping pain in his body slowly kicked in and he winced slightly more loudly than he'd expected.

Dean looked at him sympathetically and walked over to his bed with the mug in his hand.

" See if you can drink this…" Dean said holding out the mug. Sam nodded slowly and eased himself ever so cautiously into a sitting position and could already feel the overwhelming sensation of wanting to pass out creeping up on him.

Dean placed the hot drink on his night stand and as gently as he could, helped Sam sit up, trying desperately not to add to his brother's obvious pain.

Sam smiled meekly at Dean who sat a few inches in front of him.

" Thanks…" Sam said as Dean held him the drink. Sam gave the hot drink a funny look as he took a hesitant sip. He instantly reeled from the taste," Tastes funny.."

" I've already told you it's because of the coffee…" Dean said with a shrug, " How are you feeling, lousy coffee aside…?"

" I'll live.." Sam said with a sigh as he took another sip of the drink, " What time is it..?"

" Just after 11am…" Dean said glancing at his watch, " You should probably just try and take things easy today. Last few weeks have been tough for you…"

Sam stared at Dean; he could barely believe what he was hearing. His hazel eyes instantly grew darker, his face set in a stubborn mould. He could already see Dean's facial expression change.

" Aren't you even going to ask how I managed to get you into bed..?" Dean kidded as he thought back to an earlier conversation he'd had with Sam; anything but deal with the conversation that Sam was about to start, " And I didn't even buy you dinner you cheap bitch…"

" Did you sweep the place..?" Sam asked in a steady voice.

" Yeah, a crap load of glass everywhere, but it's tidy-ish…" Dean said looking at Sam strangely.

Sam shook his head, which he instantly regretted, he then grew angry.

" Not the ground, the camera, did you check it with the nightvision..?"

Dean swallowed with a heavy sigh and shot Sam a pained look. Sam glanced over at Dean, his pain temporarily forgotten, his face livid.

" You still haven't done it..?" Sam hissed anger clear on his face, " You promised me Dean, you promised me..!"

" I did look Sam, it came back clean…" Dean admitted," Nothing at all…"

Sam looked like he'd been hit in the face with a bat.

" Look, Sammy, it's not like I'm not listening…" Dean said scrubbing his face with his hands, " You're gonna just have to..-"

" If you say trust you again I'm gonna throw this friggin mug at you…!" Sam shouted at him.

" Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you are gonna have to trust..-" Dean said as he side stepped suddenly as the blue mug smashed into the door, the contents of the funny tasting coffee running down the door and onto the floor.

Dean spun and looked at the spot the mug had hit. His eyes wide in surprise he looked at Sam.

" What the hell is wrong with you..?!" Sam shouted at Dean,

Dean's mouth dropped open.

" You throw a mug at my head and you have the audacity to ask me what's wrong with me..?" Dean snapped at him, " Sammy, I understand that you're under a great deal of strain and I know things are hard…-"

" DEAN…!!" Sam shouted at him, growing more angry by the second, " There is nothing wrong with me, this is not in my head…!"

" I think you should get some rest…" Dean said looking at the broken pieces of the blue mug, " I'll make you another drink, if you promise not to hurl it at me…"

Sam folded his arms across his chest, his anger clear on his face. Dean chewed his bottom lip in frustration, he just felt like knocking some sense into Sam.

" You really think, that I dreamt up the entire scenario last night..?" Sam muttered, " You really think that I trashed our home, wreaked all our stuff..?"

" Sammy…" Dean said with a sigh.

Suddenly it just felt too hard to admit to what Dean really felt. He knew Sam had imagined it, he knew Sam was ill, he had naively hoped that Sam would be ok after a couple of hours sleep; but he'd been wrong.

Very wrong.

" How many stitches did you put into me last night, or did I imagine that also..?" Sam bitterly asked as Dean stood at the foot of his bed.

" Thirty.." Dean said with a sigh, " Look, Sam, I'll check..-"

" Do you think I did that myself..?" Sam mused as he finally looked up at his brother, " You think I took your knife and slashed myself, you think I got bored and picked up some guy from the street and paid him to beat the shit out of me, do you think I asked some guy to drug me..?"

Dean's head shot up.

" Drugged you..?" Dean asked his mouth instantly growing dry, his desperation to get out of the room suddenly overwhelming.

" It's the only explanation I can think of…" Sam said carefully studying Dean's guarded reaction., " I just felt so weird, like my own body wouldn't even move….

" Well, it's like you said yourself, you've been feeling really weird lately…" Dean said trying to paper over the cracks in the conversation.

" There is something I don't understand though…" Sam said rubbing the side of his head intently as he spoke to Dean who had perched himself now at the foot of the bed.

" Can you just listen to me for once and rest…" Dean admitted, " I have to go out for a little while, need to buy some glass for the veranda…"

" He could have killed me, Dean, I mean evil Dean, he had so many opportunities to kill me and he just didn't take them; like he was playing with me, waiting for something…"

" Right…" Dean quietly looking at Sam, " Look, I won't be long ok.."

" You're just gonna ignore me aren't you…" Sam said shaking his head, " You're just gonna pretend like I said nothing, like this is all a figment of my imagination…"

" Sammy, last night you said you didn't even know what was going on anymore.." Dean admitted, " You'll be fine ok, I was looking around on the internet and they say it takes a very long time for people to recover from head trauma…"

" This is nothing to do with friggin head trauma this is to do with the trauma that took place last night…" Sam spat, " And if you'd been home in the first place instead of busy getting yourself laid, you'd have seen it all for yourself…!"

Dean stared at Sam, his mouth open in surprise.

" So don't you dare sit there and patronise me…" Sam hissed, " Go on, get out and get the glass that I apparently shot through with a gun…"

Dean stood up and scrubbed his face with his hands.

" Get some rest…" Dean ordered in a tight voice.

" Where's my brother, where's the Dean I grew up with..?" Sam suddenly demanded, " You know three months ago, you'd have torn this place apart looking for a way to stop this thing, with even less to go on.."

" Sam…-" Dean said finally growing angry, " Would you just give it a rest. I'm trying to cut you some slack here…"

" I don't want slack, I want help, I want an explanation.." Sam demanded, and finally sighed as he watched as Dean picked up his wallet, " I just don't understand you…"

" Look at me Sam…" Dean finally said as he shoved his wallet in his pocket, " I promise you, that I will looks into this spirit as soon as I get us locked up nice and safe in this house. If I had my own way, I'd take you with me, but from the looks of it you can't even move…"

Sam stayed quiet and Dean took that as a yes.

" Dean…" Sam asked in a small voice, his head hung low, " You do believe me right..? About the spirit…."

" Of course I do…" Dean lied as he forced a smile onto his face, " Just give me some time to think this through…"

" I don't think we have much time…" Sam admitted, " This thing, it's after you too, it went after you in the fir-"

" Hey, listen, let that head of yours drop down a couple of gears, and get some sleep…" Dean said staring at Sam, " I won't be gone long, but promise me, you'll stay here and not move around…"

" I promise…" Sam said with a nod as he allowed himself to slump back down amongst the pillows. " I'm feeling sleepy anyway…"

A smile flickered briefly on Dean's face.

" Good boy…" Dean said as he walked out his bedroom and returned with a cell phone in his hand. This time he handed it to Sam.

The bizarre look on Sam's face said it all.

" Dean I swear to you, you never gave me this phone…" Sam said shaking his head, " I'd remember that, don't you think..?"

" Don't worry about that…" Dean said with a nod, " Just keep it with you, I'll call you to make sure you haven't moved from this bed.."

Sam shot him a rueful smile as he stood up from the bed again.

" You want anything from outside..?" Dean asked as he double checked for his car keys.

" No.." Sam said letting his head rest on the pillow, as he watched as Dean headed for the bedroom door, " You know, I will figure it out.."

" Figure what out..?" Dean asked slowly as he turned and looked innocently at Sam.

" Whatever the heck is going on here…" Sam said with a sleepy yawn as he could feel himself being drawn into slumber, " And whatever you're hiding…"

Dean watched carefully as Sam's eyes flickered shut and his breathing dropped back into the steady pattern.

Shaking his head as he headed for the front door, Dean sighed loudly.

At least the drugs had finally kicked in….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester sat in the Impala his head resting on the steering wheel.

Dear God, could his life get anymore complicated.

He hated the lying, he hated the deceiving.

…_..I have to tell Sam, I just have to…._ Dean thought to himself. Sure they were brothers, and while growing up they sometimes kept secrets from each other, but they were always stupid ones.

This one was different and Dean was finding it difficult to understand why he couldn't just confess all to Sam.

Just to tell him the truth, to tell him that Sam had died. Tell him that dad had just taken off and left them both for dead. Tell Sam that thanks to their twisted, demented lives, his little brother had died.

Dean's chest tightened.

Sam had died.

The feelings came flooding back in a wave of nausea that Dean had not expected. It had happened two weeks ago; no way in hell should he still be feeling like this. It was almost like something was causing him to feel this pain over and over again.

To feel the filthy hole that had been inside of him, to feel that crushing sensation when all you wanted to do is die right along beside him. To feel that over whelming sensation of abandonment, loneliness.

…_STOP IT…._ Dean begged himself as he shoved the key in the ignition and hurriedly backed off the drive……_Stop thinking about losing Sammy…_

And every single time Dean did, the fear crept into him again.

" **You failed him Dean, you failed him…"**

Dean shook his head as he turned right onto the road, driving past their beach side house.

" **It's all your fault. You didn't take care of him. Sam will die and it'll all be your fault…."**

" He'll be fine…" Dean whispered to himself in the car. He suddenly realised he was talking to himself and shook his head to clear the voice out.

" **He's so ill Dean. He's losing it mentally. Seeing all those things, doing all those things. He cut himself up real bad last night. You should have been there to save him, but you weren't…"**

" Just shut up..!" Dean suddenly shouted as he glanced around the Impala.

" **The tablets, the combination you've been given him. It's the only reason he's still alive. Keep giving it to him at every occasion; you'll see Sammy will be just fine. You can save your brother…"**

Dean shook his head again, trying desperately to clear the voice. He could feel the bitter taste return to his mouth.

Drugging your brother.

He was sure that was illegal. Not that Dean ever cared about the law.

Well, he wasn't exactly drugging him, he was taking care of him like any loving family member would do; and Dean certainly did love him. Fair enough he hadn't exactly said it in as many words, but Sam knew.

Well he was pretty sure that Sam knew.

His little brother was seeing things and not in his whole vision formula which Dean was still getting used to; Sammy was literally just cracking up.

Instead of sleeping, Dean had been up the remaining couple of hours sweeping the entire apartment for signs of sulphur; Dean had drawn blank, in fact he hadn't found any sign of demonic activity or spiritual or in fact, anything.

Sammy really had imagined the entire thing. Although how he'd managed to do so much damage by himself still remained a total mystery to Dean.

Why Sam would slash his own side open, to go through all the pain of the stitches. What on earth did Sam think he would achieve..?

Dean heaved in a heavy sigh, he realised he'd been doing that a lot since the crash.

Worrying.

He was sure it was giving him wrinkles.

He wasn't happy with drugging Sam. He'd mixed in another dose of painkillers, antibiotic inflammatory things and then the third bottle. Dean couldn't remember collecting the third bottle of pills, but they were in the bag with Sammy's name on it. He had noticed ages ago that Sam had never taken them, and Dean for the last day and a half was making sure Sam took them; without him knowing.

If Sam had just been a good boy and drank the coffee this morning; he'd have slept through the entire day. He would have given Dean his thinking time.

Man did Dean need his thinking time. He needed time to deal with this bizarre situation.

Instead angry Sammy had hurled the mug at Dean.

Still, he had drunk a quarter of the stuff, and that would keep him demobilised for at least the next few hours.

Enough time for Dean to order this sheet of glass and get his ass home….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed. That firstly wasn't the brightest idea he'd had in the last twenty four hours.

He looked at Dean's old cell phone that sat on his brother's bedside table.

He would swear on his big brother's life that Dean had never ever given him that phone.

Dean had offered it to him, but he had declined it, insisting that he wanted to get a newer one, one that he could take embarrassing pictures of Dean with. He'd just not got round to buying one yet.

Dean just had not believed in him.

That bugged the hell out of Sam.

Sighing out loud, Sam studied his brother's bedroom. He couldn't remember the last time Dean and him both had separate rooms. It had been very strange the first couple nights; for both of them. Eventually they'd both seemed to warm to the idea of having their own space, even if it was just during the night. Sam had grown accustomed to constantly picking up Dean's clothes and stuff which were always scattered around their old motel rooms, while Dean always grew agitated at Sam's complaining at the lack of untidiness.

As Sam studied Dean's room, nothing much had changed. While the floor was miraculously free of clothes, the dressers were already littered with gadgets Sam couldn't even identify, and other Dean like things.

Other than the odd abandoned bag of M&M's, the room pretty much looked very Dean like.

It was almost as if Dean's room wasn't even in the same house. Like it wasn't amongst the carnage of the rest of the house, like it had been removed from the scenario of last night.

Sighing outwardly, Sam slowly got to his feet. Truth was he was starving. Having not eaten anything but popcorn and candy floss yesterday and half of the day completed for today, Sam needed to get something inside of him before his stomach begun protesting and rejecting food altogether.

Struggling to his feet, he was surprised by exactly how weak he felt, but then again having the living day lights kicked out of you often left you feeling weak. Picking up the phone from the nightstand, he clutched it tightly in his hands and shuffled slowly towards the bedroom door. Every muscle in his body cried out, and the younger Winchester refused to even look down at his left hand side where he knew lay the stitches.

He just wasn't ready to investigate that yet. Not with Dean being a jackass and standing there hinting to him that he'd done that to himself.

Hinting to Sam that he may be mad.

Sam was not mad.

He knew what had happened last night, his big brother or something that had appeared to look like Dean had come in here and caused one hell of a mess, and Sam didn't mean just him, the entire house. It was almost like the Dean that had been in here with him and taken great pleasure in destroying most things in the room.

Shuffling into the living room and heading into the kitchen, Sam switched the kettle on and his eyes roamed around the brightly lit room to survey the damage.

Ok, things didn't look too bad. When night fall came again that would be a different story.

Sam begun to wonder if Dean had remembered to get new light bulbs, after all his evil alter ego had blown most of them out last night.

That bugged the heck out of Sam again.

How could Dean have not found any trace of anything in here..? The evil, crazier version of himself had touched, hit, and smashed so many things that he must have left some sort of residue somewhere.

Staring at the now boiled kettle, Sam decided against the drink and turned the tap on and placed a glass under it. Water seemed like a better idea.

Glass in hand, Sam spotted the mini-camcorder lying on the sofa. It was a little bright at the moment, possibly not the best time to use the night vision; he'd have to wait until the sun went down before he could even consider having a go.

_...He's the key..._Sam suddenly thought, wondering where that notion had come from.

Sam remembered hearing that a couple of times, and was sure that the black swarm like spirit had been talking about Dean. All the dreams he'd had in the hospital, all the odd sensations he'd had inside this beach house, there had to be a pattern, there had to be a point.

There had to be a method to this madness.

All Sam had to do was figure it out.

While Sam's body was still shaky, still ache filled, still reeling from the battering he had taken last night; but even more bizarrely, the younger Winchester was actually feeling better for the first time in almost two weeks.

That again, bugged the hell out of Sam...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The dark wispy black form danced seductively several feet behind Sam Winchester.

He could feel the younger boy's essences, his power, his untapped purity; it was a sensation that was simply consuming.

But the boy was smart.

Too smart.

He was beginning to piece everything together, beginning to remember things that he was not supposed to remember.

That couldn't happen.

That wouldn't happen.

The demon watched Sam's battered form fiddling with the camcorder; so weak and vulnerable, yet determined.

The black swarm like wisp watched the young psychic, its smouldering red eyes growing intense.

He knew just what to do.

It was time to, really, turn the pressure up on the key...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean twisted the silver ring on his middle finger, agitated. He smiled ironically when he realised what he was doing. Sam had given him that ring for that exact purpose, a worry ring. Instead of getting agitated, or panicking, you simply spun the middle section of the ring to calm yourself down.

Well, that was what it was supposed to do.

When your hands got worried, nervous or panicky you allowed the tension out of your body by twisting the middle part; Sam had given Dean that ring, more as a joke than anything, the nervous gag because Dean didn't do nervous, big brother Dean simply got jumpy and even worse, sometimes would get a little trigger happy.

In other words, Sam had bought Dean the ring to stop his big brother shooting things out of frustration.

And man, was Dean frustrated to no end now.

He'd been in the glass shop for over an hour, and it was taking every ounce of friggin patience Dean had, not to jump behind the counter and serve himself. Well that wasn't true, he'd been served, he was just waiting to pick up the receipt.

He'd heard the people of Florida were nice, friendly laid back kind of people; but this was taking the friggin piss.

Sighing out loud, and gaining annoyed looks from the owners of store, Dean fished out his cell phone, hunted around in the caller address book; and found the number he wanted.

It was time to check in with Sam...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam stared down at the cell phone that started ringing next to him. Seeing the name 'Dean' lighting up the screen, he looked quietly at the empty bedroom and made a face; well Dean wouldn't exactly find out now would he..?

" Hi..." Sam said trying to keep the frustration or anger from before out of his voice. He had to keep it normal, keep it light, and keep the conversation going so he could get as much information from Dean.

" I thought I'd be leaving a voicemail..." Dean said slightly surprised as Sam heard movements around on the phone. " You ok..?"

" Yeah, fine.." Sam said airily, " Did you get the glass..?"

" Still doing it, would you friggin believe it..?" Dean muttered moodily," Molasses moves faster in this town..."

" That sucks..." Sam admitted, " Dean, I was wondering something.."

" Shoot.." Dean said as he glanced at the store clerk who took Dean's paper work.

" Could you tell me exactly what you saw when you came in last night..?" Sam asked in an airy, panic free voice. Sam's insides were a different thing, he was trembling like mad.

" Sammy, what are you up to..?" Dean asked a playful note in his voice, " Just give it a rest ok, in fact give your whole body a rest.."

Sam was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his voice normal; agitated, he clambered tiredly to his feet and paced around the living room.

" Dean, I don't want to fight with you..." Sam admitted, " But I really need to hear your side of this..."

" Why..?" Dean finally asked in annoyance, " What's your problem..?"

" My problem, is none of this is adding up, this whole friggin..-" Sam's voice trailed off, his hand went to his chest as an overwhelming sensation begun to grip his body.

" Sam..?" Dean asked taking the phone from his ear and staring at the connection. His connection to his little brother still remained in tact.

" De...-" Sam whispered as his voice became laboured and riddled with pain as he dropped to his knees, his hands now clutching his stomach...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The wispy form of evil watched, its crimson eyes inspecting the youngest Winchester doubling up in pain.

They'd toyed with him long enough.

They'd toyed with both brothers long enough.

The final part of the master plan was now in place.

It was time for the key to fit into the lock...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**(sighs) Keys and Locks eh..? What a confusing world Sam and Dean Winchester live in. Thanks for reading and if you get a chance please leave a review. Xxxx**


	11. Fever

**Completely humbled by the replies I had for chapter 10. Thank you all so much. It's your replies and reviews that spurn me on with this story.**

**On with 'Fever'…**

Chapter 11- Fever

He didn't even stop when the young shop clerk hurried to the entrance with Dean's new receipt in his hand.

The elder Winchester had already left the parking lot...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

" Pick up the friggin phone, Sam…" Dean seethed as he looked accusingly at his battered cell phone, as if the little metal phone had betrayed him in some way.

The phone wasn't even ringing; all Dean got down his ear was the incredibly annoying busy signal, and considering he was the last person that Sam was talking to, call it a hunch, but the obvious signs didn't look good.

Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pushed his foot down on the accelerator…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The black wisp hovered a few feet above the unconscious Sam Winchester's body. Its red crimson eyes studied the strewn phone that lay a few inches from Sam's out stretched hand.

How easy would it be to just pick it up and mess with big brother Dean. To place even more thoughts in to his head, to place even more disturbing scenarios into his fragile mind.

He'd been given jobs to do before, but this one without a doubt was at the top of his favourites list at the moment.

Screwing with their frail minds, playing on their fears, watching as their fear consumed them; knowing that the fear alone would lead to their deaths.

It was one freakingly satisfying feeling.

How easy would it be to simply just take Sam's life…?

The red eyes glowered at that thought.

The idea of Dean coming back and finding his little brother dead; that would be worth it just to see the look on his face, to the feel the older boys greatest fear.

But he couldn't.

He had his orders.

He had to wait.

He had to wait for the perfect time.

There was movement on the floor, a very subtle movement from the frail form that lay on his side.

It was time to leave, but he'd be back to pay Dean a visit.

There was something the key needed to do…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

He couldn't move.

No matter how much he wanted to, needed to, he just couldn't get his body to move.

The pain was overwhelming, surging through his body like fire, consuming every breath that rattled through him.

His hazel eyes stared at the phone that was just out of reach.

He remembered he'd been talking to Dean on the phone right before he had collapsed.

He just prayed that he'd be able to see Dean before he left this world.

Sam knew he was going to die….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester scrambled up the steps to the beach side apartment and stepped through the frame of what used to be the veranda glass door.

" Sam..?" Dean shouted loudly, as he trudged around the living room, " Where..-"

His voice trailed off when he saw the fallen phone on the floor and just a few inches away, Sam lay on his side.

With his eyes closed, Dean would have easily been fooled into thinking that Sam had fallen asleep, but on closer examination, Dean realised that was far from the correct diagnosis.

Bending down onto his knees, Dean gently reached forward and touched Sam's cheek. He yanked his hand back as if he'd just been burnt.

Sam's body was scorching hot.

" Sammy..?" Dean whispered as he roused his little brother, pulling his body against his chest.

Dean was stunned at what he was seeing; a state of shock was washing over him.

He'd seen Sam sick. He'd been there all of Sam's life and seen him with flu, viruses and even with food poisoning; but this was something else.

" Fr...eee...eezzing..." Sam managed to stammer out, his voice laboured, racked with pain; shaking violently.

Dean's eyes darted to the sofa, " Come on, I'm gonna drag your ass to the sofa, and then you can get nice and cosy..."

Sam nodded, grateful beyond words that Dean was here. The younger Winchester could feel whatever was happening inside of him swarming like some type of infectious disease through his blood. His eyes were heavy and he felt sorry for Dean who was physically dragging him to the sofa. Sam wished he could be more help, but truth was, it hurt even to try and communicate with Dean; let alone get his legs to co-operate and start moving.

Dean placed his shaking little brother as gently as he could onto the sofa, and then lifted Sam's legs onto the other side, enabling him to lie down. It was then that Dean actually surveyed Sam from head to toe.

Sam didn't have any normal fever that Dean had ever seen. Yes he'd been a bit hot the last few days, and in pain now and again, but never to this extent.

Dean picked up the blanket from the sofa, opened it, and promptly wrapped his little brother in it. Dean was finding it increasingly hard to watch Sam tremble and convulse from the pain, the fever slowly devouring Sam.

" Sammy, tell me what happened...?" Dean insisted as he knelt down on the floor near his brother's face.

He watched Sam's lips that were trembling, his voice hitching as he tried to speak, his head slowly shaking.

" I...was...talk...ing...to...to...you..." Sam finally managed to say, " Then...I...I...this...hap...pened..."

" So you were feeling fine before this..?" Dean asked his hand gently stroking Sam's wet hair off his face, his skin glistening from the sweat, the fever streaming through in his face.

" I...don't...get..." Sam said shaking as he spoke, wishing he could just finish the sentence without stammering, without chocking, without wanting to cry. " It...was...here..."

Dean looked more carefully at Sam, his hand now coming to a rest on the top of Sam's head.

" What was here..?" Dean asked suddenly, his own eyes now glancing around the apartment for signs of intrusion.

" De...de...demon..." Sam chocked out, as he closed his eyes, the tiredness wanting to pull him in, " I..."

" How do you know..?" Dean asked again, trying desperately hard to keep the anger out of his voice. He couldn't have failed, the demon they'd been after for twenty three years, it couldn't be behind this, it couldn't have happened. Dean could not have failed again, " The demon was here, _the_ demon..?"

" The...de...demon...spirit..." Sam whispered his voice growing more quiet, " Behind...all...of...this..."

" How can you be so sure Sam..?" Dean asked rousing his brother gently by touching his soaking wet hair.

" I...I...could...fee...feel...it..." Sam stammered out, "It's...the...only...thing...makes...se...sense..."

Dean nodded quietly; that did make sense.

Angry spirits and ghosts, Dean could fight. If they'd worked some sort of curse, or illness onto Sam, then all he had to do was find it and kill the son of a bitch, that would break it, either that or smash the altar, destroy the marker; heck Dean didn't care, he'd find it, destroy it and fix this situation.

He was beginning to get fed up of people taking pot shots at his family.

He was fed up of seeing Sam so ill.

" **You're failing him, you're gonna just have to sit there and watch him die..."**

Dean felt his voice catch in his throat.

" You're gonna be just fine Sammy.." Dean said with a nod, " You know what I think you're right about all of this, a spirit is behind it..."

For just a glimmer, just a brief moment; Dean saw Sammy's beautiful hazel eyes light up.

" You...you...be...lieve...me...?" Sam whispered, as tears shone in his eyes. This so, was not the time to cry, yet, he didn't have the strength to hide the tears that were threatening to spill down his face.

After all, he had a lot to cry about. Dean's bizarre behaviour, the fact that Dean had admitted in not so many words this morning that he believed that his little brother was mad and seeing things.

The fact that he'd had the living day lights kicked out of him, that he'd heard all the things that he'd never wanted to hear Dean say in his entire life, tumble out his brother's mouth in one lousy conversation. It had taken an insane amount of strength last night to not just sit on the floor and cry his eyes out.

But he hadn't.

Sam had held tough, that was probably more to do with the fact that he'd been unconscious most of the time, but he'd still held strong.

Now however was different.

Now he felt that everything he'd been bottling up inside the last couple of weeks wanting to pour out of him.

However, the worried look on Dean's face pretty much indicated that, this really wasn't the time for an out pouring of emotion. It was time for action; it was time that his big brother, the real Dean he knew and loved to make an appearance.

" Of course I believe you…" Dean said managing a smile for Sam's sake, " Look, did you get a look at this thing, cause I'm gonna need something to go on here…"

" It….lo…looked…..like…..eyes…" Sam mumbled, feeling his eyes getting heavier.

Dean stared at Sam confused,

" It looked like eyes…? Sammy even in your stuffed up head that can't have made a bit of sense…" Dean said with a grin, " Try and speak English this time…"

" Red…eyes…" Sam said again his eyes now fluttering shut.

Dean groaned as he shook Sam lightly, " No, nighty night just yet Sammy.."

" So…..ti…red…" Sam whispered his eye now closed his mouth barely moving.

Dean patted his brother's hand and got up from the floor.

Ok, so this wasn't exactly the no stress vacation that he'd planned for him and Sammy; ok screw that, there had been no planning, more of a case of jumping in the Impala and heading as far as he could from Jefferson City.

Florida was as far as Dean could have thought; plus it looked like they were on vacation, nice beaches, nice people, real hot women- oh and of course a hunt.

A friggin hunt even had to piss him off when he was trying not to hunt.

Scrubbing his exhausted face with his hands, Dean felt nothing but frustration. He had no idea what was going on and worse, he had no idea to fix it.

…_..Treat it like a normal hunt……_ Dean thought sucking in a breath…_Start the research, start the checks, start…_

Dean suddenly snapped his fingers, how could he be so blind..?

" The ESP..!" Dean suddenly said as he knelt down beside Sam, " Sammy, why didn't we think of that earlier..?"

" Too…..busy….call..ing…me…..a….li..ar…." Sam muttered which stun Dean's cheeks.

" God you're miserable when you're ill…" Dean mumbled as he studied Sam's sleep riddled form.

" Bitch…" Sam stammered out, managing a smile for his brother. He could feel the heat radiating off his body, yet he could feel the cold. The fever bleeding onto his skin, causing the sweat to run little streaks down the side of his head.

" Jerk…" Dean said with an equally half baked smile. " It's in the car, I'll grab it and get to work.."

Sam smiled as he watched as Dean disappeared out of sight.

At least one good thing had come of the situation; Dean 'the hunter' Winchester seemed to be back….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

" Find evils ass and then kick the friggin day lights out of it…" Dean muttered to himself as he jogged down the steps and hurried under the house to the Impala. Snapping open the trunk, Dean rooted around inside hunting for his home made EMF recorder. What the heck was wrong with him, how could he have forgotten to look for this in the first place. If he had done this, Sam might not even have this freaky mojo style curse on him.

Well it looked like a curse.

Nobody got that sick from nothing; did they..?

Dean paused with the EMF recorder in his hand, his mind wondering off on a different path.

Maybe this wasn't the demon, maybe Sam was sick, just genuinely ill. After all Dean had been the one to take him from the hospital and being him half way across America.

Dean promptly shook his head..._Time to get to work, this isn't your fault; Sam being ill is not your fault..._

It was time Dean Winchester started believing it...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean walked quietly towards Sam in the dimly lit living room. All the lamps were now switched on with new bulbs, but the main strip lights were still not working.

Night had already descended on the dysfunctional Winchester household.

Armed with a bowl of soup, Dean knelt down onto the floor, trying to compose himself as he looked at Sam's pale face.

It glistened from the intensity of the fever.

" Come on, you got to eat something..." Dean said titling his head to the side as he stroked his brother's hair, " Come on Sammy..."

Sam's hazel eyes heavily opened, his aching body still trembling; every word the younger hunter spoke laboured and riddled with pain.

It was breaking Dean's heart.

" Fi...Find...an...any...thing...?" Sam whispered as he tried to sit up, but failed. Dean gently put an arm on his brother's shoulder, a subtle reminder that perhaps movement wasn't the smartest idea.

Dean swallowed, and slowly nodded his head.

" Sammy, the room is dripping with something..." Dean admitted as he placed the bowl of soup he still had been holding on the coffee table, " But I can't find anything with a spirit with red eyes, or a demon that can control fevers or...-"

" Bo...book..." Sam whispered as he looked helplessly at Dean, " Tr...Try..."

" I've been through the Key of Solomon like nine times, been through Dad's journal to the point where I could recite every page to you..." Dean said in a drained voice, " Sammy, you have to stay strong, I promise you I will stop this..."

Sam's eyes closed as he struggled to swallow, his hazel eyes reopened slowly and looked at Dean.

" I...kn...know...you...are...try...ing..." Sam said with a smile, "I...don't...bl...ame...you..."

Dean's head fell in shame, " I shouldn't have doubted you, I should have listened to you from the start Sam; I'm real...-"

Sam's hand reached across and gave Dean's wrist a weak squeeze. Dean looked at him and smiled.

" It's...ok..." Sam said as he held a shaky breath in.

Dean looked down at Sam who had slipped back asleep, the bowl of soup lay untouched.

Sam was wrong.

This wasn't ok.

Dean's actions weren't ok.

Sam had warned him all along that there was this spirit out there getting to them. A spirit that could manipulate what people saw.

Sighing to himself, Dean eased himself off the floor and checked the time; it had just gone 7pm.

" **You can't save him, you're gonna fail again..."**

Dean's eyes looked around the room, the EMF recorder sitting on the table; the bars to the home made device remained silent and unmoving.

" **Sam will die..."**

Dean felt his feet hurrying to the table, as he snatched the EMF machine off the surface and stared at the reading in disbelief.

Dean knew something was in the room.

He could friggin well hear the thing.

Yet, why were there no readings, no static, no sounds...?

" **There is no demon Dean, Sam is actually sick. Sick because of what you did to him, sick because you forced him to leave the hospital, sick because you're selfish..."**

Dean's heart jumped in his throat.

" **You only took Sam away from the hospital to make sure that they couldn't take him from you. To make sure that you were never left alone. Don't you get it Dean; this whole mess is all your fault..."**

Dean hurried towards the veranda and ducked through the frame of the still shattered veranda doors.

He stood on the deck; his body lent against the rails and sucked in a breath that promptly felt as if it was threatening to strangle him.

Dean ran a hand through his dark brown hair, trying desperately to steady his fraying nerves.

He'd heard the voice, he heard that voice for the last few days; but there were no readings on the EMF, there was nothing on the night vision of the camera.

There was nothing.

Yet Dean was hearing this voice.

" **You made a decision Dean; now live by the consequences..."**

Dean shook his head trying desperately to clear it.

There was no voice, he was imagining it. It was the only thing that made sense.

The voice in his head was wrong.

They were all wrong.

Dean would save Sam; no matter the cost...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**The plot thickens ! Poor old Sam will he ever catch a break..? More importantly, what does this spirit want with Dean..? If you get a chance, leave a little note for me, and I'll see you all next update Xxxx**


	12. Remember Me

**Happy Holidays to everyone ! This will be my last update for December, so I apologise in advance for such a horrible place that the story will stop (you'll see why :o)), but I need some time to write some new chapters and of course get rid of my growing pile of essays.**

**As always thanks to everyone who reviewed off Chapter 11, a special thank you to Mariazinha for such a lovely PM, it was a total surprise to me, so thank you very much.**

**As to everyone else, I wish every one reading a wonderful and safe Christmas and a fabulous New Year. Thanks to everyone who has supported me through my stories on here and those who have reviewed.**

**Now on with 'Remember Me', the last instalment for 2006 !!**

Chapter 12- Remember Me

Dr Andrew Wallis paced around Clearwater Memorial hospital, his impatience was beginning to show on his face as well as in his erratic pacing and nervous twisting of his hands.

Jefferson City Community hospital was nothing but a distant memory for the doctor now.

They should have been here by now.

They both should have been here by now.

The man with the red eyes had promised him that his prize cattle would have been here by now.

Dr Wallis shook his head in annoyance as he continued to pace the Emergency Room of the local hospital. He'd been into every ward, on every floor, exploring every patient registered with a fine tooth comb.

Sam Turner and his elder brother Dean had to be in here.

The man with the red eyes had told him they were here.

As long as he did what he was told, as long as he continued to do what he was asked to do; he'd stay alive.

Well it beat the heck out of being dead; and if the man with the red eyes had not have been as kind as to help him, then he would have been dead.

All the medications that the younger Turner must have ingested in the last fortnight must have him knocking at the gates of death.

Dr Wallis made a face_...Unless he was already dead..._

He hadn't even considered that possibility, but maybe it was worth considering now. After all, somebody in Sam's condition, well there was only so much you could take.

Dr Wallis knew what the two bottles of tablets would do; they would make Samuel very ill. But the third bottle, the third prescription that he'd been ordered by the man with the red eyes to add to the list; that still puzzled the doctor.

He'd searched every single listing he could find, every journal article he could get his hand on; and yet that name hadn't appeared on anything.

It was like it had appeared out of thin air.

Like magic.

Still, Dr Wallis had been promised that he would be rewarded with more wealth and fame than a man could ever want for.

All he had to was wait for his prize cattle to show up...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester exhaustedly looked up from the kitchen table, his head automatically glancing at his brother who was sleeping soundly on the sofa.

Dean's hazel green eyes fell to the clock for what felt like the millionth time, it was just after 11pm.

The elder brother had spent hours on the laptop searching in vain for two things, a reason behind this mess and finally a solution to the mess.

In the hours he'd spent doing so, he'd so far arrived to the conclusion that for starters he couldn't find any trace of this red eyed demon thing that Sam had described and no cure for Sam's fever that was beginning to burrow out of control.

Dean yawned out loud, and for a few minutes allowed his head to tilt back as his heavy sleep filled eyes shut for a brief second.

God he needed sleep.

In fact he didn't need sleep, he craved it.

Just the idea of being able to curl up in his bed and place his head on a pillow and allow the horror of the last twenty four hours to be nothing but a distant memory ached his shattered mind.

Screw the last twenty four hours, Dean wouldn't mind the last three weeks being nothing but a distant memory. He hadn't slept through the night once, his senses heightened, his heart set on panic mode as soon as night set in. He could keep an eye on Sam during the day, but at night, when they pushed their bedroom doors in, never closing them, what was Dean to do then..?

Each night his disturbed sleep would be filled with even more disturbing nightmares involving hunts that didn't exist and scenarios that had never taken place; yet they all ended the same way, Dean watching Sam die and doing nothing to prevent it.

Each night he woke up the same way, his body stiff and rigid and filled with fear, each night waking up to check to see if his baby brother's blood was actually on his hands.

And then that little evil voice that was known as Dean's conscience would set to work.

That evil little voice that would remind Dean that this whole situation, that Sam's slow painful recovery was because he chose to take him out of the hospital, that he'd been the one to lie to Sam, that he'd been the one to decide what would happen to them both.

Dean had made that choice, he'd made the choice that Sam had not been well enough to be able to comprehend what had actually taken place; I mean coming back from the dead wasn't exactly standard practice.

It had scared the hell out of Dean, yet left the elder brother in awe; so he could only imagine what the two doctors who had been dealing with the Turner two would have felt.

Yet all along Dean Winchester had known deep in his mind that something evil had sent his brother back to him. Something with immense power had summoned his little brother and sent him back.

He'd known all along that evil had given the Winchester family a helping hand.

And yet he'd ignored it.

All the signs, all the little signs, all the times that Sam asked for him to believe him, all the times that Sam had begged for his help in the last couple of days.

And he'd ignored him.

Dean's hands went to his face covering his exhausted features with his hands. He'd been cruel enough this morning to think that Sam was mad; he'd had the audacity to accuse Sam of losing his mind.

Dean shook his head at the situation he'd created; Sam was now ill because of him.

" **Now his blood will be on your hands..."**

Dean rubbed his eyes and shook his head as he tried to shake the voice from his head. As quietly as he could, Dean slipped out of the kitchen chair and walked over to the sofa, the dimly lit living room offering him little assistance.

Dean stared down at Sam's peaceful expression. His eyes closed, hiding those hazel eyes that had ways of seeing straight into your soul.

That peaceful look.

It still scared the hell out of Dean.

Shuddering, Dean knelt down next to Sam and it was then that the elder brother could see that Sam's body was still shaking from the fever, the blankets wrapped around the youngster obviously offered him no warmth at all; yet as Dean let his finger tips touch his brother's forehead, the fire from his skin felt like he'd just caught a freshly fired rod iron bullet with his bare hands.

Dean looked at Sam's soaked hair, the sweat of the fever having matted it back, yet through everything, Sam still stirred at the slightest of touches.

It was pretty obvious that Sam had never been asleep, just in an odd sense of rest, the fever dragging him back and forth between consciousnesses.

" Hey..." Sam managed to say, his voice was still shaky, but the lull in the conversation for a few hours had caused him to calm down, compose himself, fight the fever and most importantly, encourage Dean and give him hope that he could fix this.

After all, Dean was all Sam had, and considering Dean's flaky state of mind for the last week or so, especially the last few days, Sam was clinging onto every bit of hope he had.

Considering the direness of the situation, that hope was pretty slim. Yet this was Dean, his Dean and Sam would never give up hope on his brother, not until he'd allowed his dying breath to leave his body.

Sam saw the gentle look in Dean's eyes, although his face wore its usual trade mark smile.

" How you holding it together little man..?" Dean asked him with a grin, " Cause you know, drifting off to the land of nod while I'm being forced to stay awake, dude, that's just plain cruel..!"

Sam managed a smile, " You always were one for humour..."

Dean patted his hand playfully, " Well, what else am I gonna do..? Get all melodramatic and start crying..?"

Sam laughed, which quickly grew into a dry coughing fit. Dean felt the panic quickly grow as he eased a glass of water to Sam's lips.

Sam eventually slumped back against the sofa cushions and in the dim light; his hazel eyes caught the worry on Dean's face.

He could feel it inside. Slow, deliberate and evil.

Whatever was taking over his body was moving faster than Dean was in finding a cure for him. Sam sighed quietly and closed his eyes, allowing his finger tips to brush the top of Dean's hand. Dean simply squeezed it purposely and went to stand to leave. Sam however grabbed his finger in his hand and held onto it.

" Stay...please..." Sam said his voice growing considerably more tired. He forced his eyes open to look at Dean's face. It was littered with concern.

" Oh...man..." Sam said with a weak smile as he watched as Dean lowered himself back onto the floor, his legs scooping to the side. " Don't...give...me...that...look..."

Dean managed a smile as well, " What look, I'm not giving you any type of look..."

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed the dry lump that was itching his throat, his hand never let go of Dean's finger.

His head turned to his left and looked at Dean, a wistful smile appearing on his face. Dean spotted and gave him a suspicious look.

" What's with the goofy look..?" Dean teased, " Cause you genuinely look mad.."

Sam grinned and slowly opened his eyes, and stared into Dean's hazel green eyes.

" Do...you...re...remember..." Sam said slowly trying to compose himself, the shaking and shivering making an unwelcome return. "Dad...wo...would...not...let...me...co...come...out...and...pl...play...with...you..."

" Hey you should be resting..." Dean said with a playful scolding tone in his voice, " No more long conversations, just nod or something..."

" We...were...in...Chicago..." Sam said with a smile, as he looked at Dean desperate for him to remember the memory, " You...went...to...play...ball..."

" Baseball..." Dean said with a nod, " Yeah, Sammy, I remember. But what's...-"

" Dad...was...so...mad...at...me..." Sam said with a peaceful look on his face, " I...was...mo..mouthing...off...so...he...told...me...I...could...not...go...with...you..." Sam stammered out, his voice now shaking violently from the fever.

" Sam, come on..." Dean said his worrying growing now into a panic. Dean was also growing agitated that Sam wouldn't give him back his finger.

" I...must...been...thirteen..." Sam stammered as he looked at Dean through tired, weak hazel eyes. " I...climbed out...the...win...dow..."

" Yes you did..." Dean said with a nod, as he looked over at the book that still sat at the kitchen table. Here he was sitting on the floor reminiscing about old times when he could have been looking for a cure. " Man, when dad found out that you'd snuck out, he was gonna kill you..."

A smile flickered on Sam's paling face as he studied the look on Dean's face.

" It's…a…go..good thing….I did….." Sam said with a smile, " Those…..guys……were…tr…trying…to….b…beat…the…heck….out…..of…..you…"

Dean scowled at Sam's last comment, " Yeah, right, I could have taken them, all of them…"

" There were…like…..ten…of….them…" Sam said the smile still on his face, " I'm gl…glad…I…took…your….bat…."

" The guy who's knee cap you smashed in, I bet he weren't glad you had that bat on you…" Dean said with a chuckle, " Oh man, when you took that guy out by the knees, I wanted to kill you…"

" Wh…what…was…I…to…do,…let…you…get…..killed…?" Sam whispered his voice growing raspy, rattling around as he spoke in a hoarse tone.

" I grabbed your arm and we ran like mad…" Dean said laughing at the memory, " Urgh, we ended up hiding behind that dumpster for over an hour…"

Sam nodded slowly, " I…don't….think…I'll….ever…for…get…that…smell…"

" It's engraved in my brain…" Dean said with a mocking shudder. His hazel green eyes looked over Sam's weakening state.

" I know what you're doing Sam, trying to get me thinking about the good old days, while you think you can get away with slipping off to another world and leaving me by myself.." Dean said with a dry chuckle, " Ain't gonna work this time little man, you'll be just fine…."

Sam stared at Dean's face.

He had to let him know, he had to tell him the truth. It was probably the last time he was ever gonna talk to Dean while he had some sense in his head; lord knows what this fever was going to make him do.

" I'm…….dying…..Dean…" Sam chocked out as he shakily reached for his brother's hand and placed it against his chest.

Dean stared dumbfounded at Sam.

" You'll be fine…" Dean said in a stiff voice as he tried to pull his hand back. The elder Winchester refused to allow himself to get sucked in.

" No…no…" Sam stammered as he held Dean's hand against his chest, as if in some metaphoric, touchy feely crappy kind of way, would make Dean understand.

" I can feel it Dean…" Sam whispered as he looked at his big brother, " I can feel it inside…"

Dean yanked his hand away in annoyance.

" You're not giving up…" Dean snapped as he stood up angrily and marched back towards the book and snatched it up from the table.

Dean refused to accept that the large book was shaking in his hands, if he did, it would mean having to accept that he was shaking.

" I can't keep this up…" Sam admitted, his voice sounding defeated, like he was ready to cut his losses and move onto whatever the heck it was that life had in store for him next.

Sam was just fed up of fighting.

Dean dropped the book nosily onto the table, his hands were shaking violently.

He was stuck.

Trapped.

He didn't have a clue what to do next.

The fever was devouring his little brother and he had no cure, no antidote, no clue, no idea to what he could do next.

…_Hospital…._Dean thought, his brain agonising over the suggestion_….Take the chance and get him there…_

No, he couldn't.

Of course he couldn't, that crazy ass doctor was waiting for him and his brother.

Wallis was waiting for his Sam.

Dean shook his head trying to get his brain to make sense.

…_But he's in Jefferson City, you left him in Jefferson City…._Dean argued with himself as he paced the floor.

Dean paused, stuck with what to do. He couldn't take Sam to the hospital, could he..?

" **Take him there Dean it's the only way to save him…"**

Dean nodded glad that the decision had been made.

The elder Winchester brother hurried over to Sam and removed the blanket off the sweaty youngster, who looked at him confused.

" What are you doing..?" Sam whispered, exhaustion fast creeping into his voice, " Dean please, I don't..-"

" We're gonna get help Sammy…" Dean said in a rushed tone as he looped his brother's skinny arms around his shoulders and hoisted him into a standing position. It took all of Dean's energy to keep Sam upright.

" Where..?" Sam gasped out as he looked back at the sofa, which seemed very far away now, as Dean half walked half dragged him towards the door.

" Hospital…" Dean muttered between clenched teeth.

Sam stared at the side of Dean's head. No way had he heard his big brother right.

" Dean…?" Sam whispered, " Why..?"

" Wow, that fever has got you all psycho, you're ill little man, or have you forgotten..?" Dean muttered, stretching out a hand and ripping open the front door. It banged loudly on its hinges, causing Sam to wince at the noise.

Dean continued to hurry his brother, as best as he could without physically dragging Sam behind him like a rag doll.

Arriving under the house, Dean placed Sam against the car as the elder Winchester forced the passenger door open and promptly dumped a shattered Sam in the passenger seat.

Sam lay with his head against the side of the door as he heard Dean scramble in beside him.

Within seconds, the Winchester's were roaring down the street.

" You just hang in there Sammy, you just hang in there..." Dean said, his face set in determination as he hunched his tired form over the wheel of the Impala. Dean refused to look at his dying brother beside him.

Sam Winchester's hazel eyes never left Dean. The younger brother studied his big brother, his hero's profile that was illuminated every so often as they drove under the street lamps.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to slip away sitting in the passenger seat in his brother's car. He'd wanted to stay on the sofa and talk about the good times with his big brother. He wanted Dean to give their father a message, he wanted Dean to know so many things.

Yet here he was.

Slumped in the passenger seat of his brother's Impala. The family car that had been around them as long as could remember. It was Dean's pride and joy.

Maybe it was be a fitting ending. He'd shared so many adventures with Dean in this car. Sitting in his famous shot gun seat, arguing about Dean's out dated classic rock hits while he recited research and facts about the next hunt or case they were taking up.

Those had been good days.

Sure they were hunting and in the beginning they'd been forced to be reunited with the death of Jessica and their father going missing; but one huge plus point had been born out of that night.

Sam had re-discovered his big brother.

Sam would be grateful to Dean for the rest of his life. Sure his big brother could be a wise cracking, annoying, older brother; try and find one that wasn't. But Sam loved Dean more than he'd ever been able to tell him, or show him, or more importantly, make Dean Winchester believe.

And now here they were.

Together again in the car, heading off again on another adventure.

The only difference was, this time Sam knew the ending.

He was going to die in this passenger seat staring at the side of his brother's head, heading back to the place where Dean had originally taken him from.

The whole situation didn't make an ounce of sense to Sam Winchester.

Sam just prayed that he'd make some sense of it before he died...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**If you get a chance, please leave a review, it's the only way I can know what you guys think ! Have a wonderful holiday and I'll see you all in the New Year. Xxxx**


	13. Unlucky

**Happy New Year to everyone. Hope everyone still remembers what happened at the end of chapter 12. Thank you to all those who submitted a review, as always it's greatly appreciated. It's wonderful to hear what you guys think, so thank you :o) Anyway, hope you continue to enjoy the story.**

**On with 'Unlucky'**

Chapter 13- Unlucky

Dean Winchester snuck a look over to Sam who was now turned away from him, his heading lolling to the side as Dean drove recklessly down the road.

His hand promptly left the steering wheel and gave Sam's shoulder a firm shake.

Ain't no way was he going to go back to a hospital for no friggin reason.

No way.

Sam was going to go to hospital, get seen to, get better and then be released. It all made perfect, rational sense. Dean would make up some story about them moving from city to city hence why there were no notes for Sam, he'd also say that he'd forgot to bring Sam's medication along with him. It was just a good plan. Dean had even thought of a new alias for them to use in the mean time. He quite liked his current alias of Lawson, so while in hospital, Dean had decided upon the name Houston.

" Houston, we have a problem..." Dean said with a grin to the silent car, as he chuckled at his own weird joke. Well, Dean was correct, Houston did a have problem. Well, at least Dean and Sam Houston had a rather big problem; one of them was clinging onto life in the car, while the other one was about a tail spin away from claiming both their lives with crashing the car.

Dean knew where he was going; he was going to the hospital. He was going to get Sammy help; everything was going to be ok. He'd get Sammy to the hospital and the clever doctors and the helpful nurses would take care of him. They'd make him all better.

That's what doctors did.

They made sick people better.

They work miracles.

Dean glanced over again at his unconscious brother.

No, no, sleeping brother.

If Sam was unconscious, then that would mean that he wasn't in the same confined, suffocating space that the Impala was increasingly becoming. If Sam was unconscious then that would mean that Sam wasn't in the car with him, embarking on this journey to the hospital.

It would mean that Sam simply wasn't there with him.

It would mean that Dean was alone, all alone. Left by everyone. Not wanted by no one.

Rejected.

Dean could feel the frightened tears beginning to burn through his hazel green eyes.

So Sam was asleep. Never unconscious, never not there with Dean, never away in some distant world that Dean Winchester had zero access to.

Dean's mind kept drifting off. He couldn't understand the height of his confusion.

Why was he listening to his conscience and taking Sam back to the hospital now..? Why now, did everything, suddenly make sense...? Every single time Sam had suggested that they go down to the hospital to talk to the doctor, to talk about Sam's medication, Dean had shot the suggestion down.

Even last night when he had physically sewed all those stitches into Sam himself, even though every intelligent thought in his head told him to take him down to ER, he'd ignored it.

The pain was eating Dean alive.

His lies were destroying him.

Yet, Dean had no idea why he was still lying. All he was sure about was that his evil little conscience continued to be infuriating and point out every single reason why he couldn't tell Sam.

The horrible, inconsolable feeling of dread, emptiness and guilt had thread its way through Dean's gut each and every time Sam had mentioned the words; illness, hospitals, medication and doctors.

Dean had just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, he'd wanted some big bird to descend from the sky and carry him off to a nest on the top of a big mountain, he'd wanted Sam to just never ever mention the crash, their father, the accident, the coma, anything.

And now suddenly, everything felt ok.

Going to the hospital felt like it was the best idea in the world.

Dean's eyes tried to take in where he was driving, yet he seemed to be on auto pilot. No matter how hard Dean tried to concentrate on where he was heading, tried to follow the path he was being led down, his mind grew fuzzy and he couldn't focus anymore.

Yet he was driving and had no idea where he was going or how he knew where to go.

It was almost as if something was controlling him...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

They were coming.

Its red eyes glowered passionately as it swarmed around the male in the office.

The doctor glanced over at the mass of black particles, still uneasy to how something which had no physical body held such a significantly powerful hold over him.

It was its power that bothered Andrew Wallis the most.

Its ability to peel away life and then in a heartbeat return it back to the owner.

Dr. Wallis snuck a look over at the hovering, intimidating figure.

He wasn't a believer in the supernatural. Anyone with a grain of intelligence understood that anything mustering in the world of the paranormal could be explained in logical, rational means.

Only those who were stark raving mad believed in the supernatural, only those people believed in witches, warlocks, demons, spirits, ghosts, reincarnation, rituals and hunters.

The red eyes bore into his stomach like an illness, its menacing black form danced seductively in front of the doctor.

" They're here..." It growled, its blood rich eyes staring into the doctors soul. " Remember our deal Andrew, remember what we said..."

Dr Wallis swallowed nervously as the red eyed, black form charged into his body, suffocating his thoughts, actions and movement.

He was trapped in his own meat suit.

His last thoughts before his consciousness was removed from him was something he thought he'd never think, let alone accept.

He'd become a believer...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

" Sammy...!" Dean shouted his voice, loud, commanding. It was no time for Sam to be resting, sleeping; anything that allowed him to have his eyes closed instead of living consciously in this filthy world that was consuming Dean.

Dean's hand rested gently but apprehensively on his brother's shoulder, Sam's head still turned away from him, nodding to the passenger side of the car.

Dean's hand slowly, dropped off his little brother's shoulder and onto his chest. Words couldn't describe the comfort that oozed from Dean to feel the shallow movements of Sam's chest struggling to rise and fall.

It didn't matter if his little brother was drowning in his own blood.

It was the small mercy that Sam was still alive.

Dean shook Sam's shoulder gently and rapidly it grew faster, it took every ounce of common sense not to grab his unconscious brother with both hands and shake him back to the land of the living.

Instead, Dean scrambled out the car and hurried over to Sam's side and in one swift, practiced move; opened the door to the Impala and knelt down in front of Sam.

Dean reached over and snapped the seat belt off from his brother, and physically had to catch him before Sammy rolled right out of the car. Instead, Dean propped him back against the seat, and gently with his hands, tilted his brother's face back. Dean felt his hands pause as he cupped his little brother's face in his erratic hands.

He looked so young. So innocent. The hazel eyes that had a stubborn way of boring a hole straight into your soul, laid trapped behind closed eye lids, resting peacefully.

And yet, he was battling for his life.

Dean looked at Sam and again tried to rouse him, he kept glancing at the hospital ER entrance which was about twenty feet away. At the time he'd parked, Dean had thought he was about as close to the hospital as he could get the black beauty of the Impala; instead, feeling he way he did, Dean would have happily drove his prized possession straight through the doors and parked directly in reception.

" Come on, Sam..." Dean said his hand on his brother's chest as he moved him forward trying to loop his free arm around his brother, to haul him out the seat.

The sudden abrupt movement caused Sam to wince and Dean froze.

Yes Sam was battling a high fever, but the little man had never complained once of any pain. Yet here he was now wincing. Dean looked gingerly at his brother; unless Dean was the one who was hurting him.

" Sammy..?" Dean whispered as he urged Sam to open his eyes and look at him, " We're at the hospital, it's gonna be ok now, you'll see, they'll fix you, they'll make you all better..."

Sam's eyes flickered open, " Stay...here..."

" I'm not going anywhere without you..." Dean said mustering a smile, " Now come on, I got to get you moving to that ER, now you got to co-operate, you hear me..? You got to get those bandy legs of yours to start putting one clumsy foot in front of the other..."

Dean once again looped Sam's hand, but he froze as he did before when Sam cried out. His younger brother's hand moved straight to his lower abdomen. Dean's eyes widened.

" It hurts.." Sam gasped out, " Oh god, it hurts..."

Dean nervously looked around the parking lot.

He had to make a decision.

Now.

Finally Dean sucked in a breath and looked directly at Sam who was hugging his stomach, his skin a horrible grey shade, his eyes never focusing, and in so much pain that Dean felt like running a hundred miles in the opposite direction, just so he didn't have to see that look on his Sam's face.

" I'm gonna get help Sammy..." Dean said already standing up, " I'm gonna go to the ER and get us some help.."

Sam's hand instantly stretched out.

" Stay...please..." Sam begged, his voice tortured as he forced his eyes on his big brother, " Dean...please..."

Dean looked at the stretched out hand, and eventually took it in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He knelt down back in front of Sam.

" Sammy, I'll be just...-" Dean started to explain,

" Don't...le...leave...me...to...die...on...my...own.." Sam begged as he his hazel eyes bore a sorrowful look into Dean's heart.

His little brother's eyes were scared, wild, innocent. Dean's heart plunged to the pit of his stomach. Just hearing Sam whisper those words made Dean sick.

Dean took his free hand and smoothed some of Sam's shaggy brown hair off his forehead.

" Dude, I'll be five freaking minutes, alright..?" Dean said chuckling through the lump in his throat, " If you manage to die within that time, heck I'm gonna resurrect you myself and kick the shit out of you...!"

Dean blinked the tears from his eyes. He had to stay strong and calm for Sam. No point them both crumbling in front of each other.

" I'll be right back..." Dean said untangling his fingers from Sam's. Forcing himself not to glance back, he started jogging towards the entrance of the emergency room.

Dean had to keep his game face on.

Not only for Sam's sake.

But for Dean's as well...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester flew through the doors of the ER.

His jog had all but turned into a high speed sprint.

Crashing through the ER doors, his hazel green eyes looked at the busy ER room. Ignoring all the disapproving looks as he pushed past other ill or injured people, Dean anxiously seeked out anyone who looked like they worked there.

He was about a breath away from screaming the words 'help' from the pit of his stomach, when something pinned on the reception wall made him freeze.

In fact he didn't freeze.

Dean had no choice but to stop moving.

Because at that precise moment, Sam wasn't the one in desperate need of medical attention.

Dean was.

The elder Winchester was sure his heart had just about imploded inside of his body. He was positive that any grain of motivation in his head had exploded into tiny useless fragments.

Any trace of hope Dean had been clinging onto, had all but been removed.

Sitting behind the busy receptionist were two pictures lifted from CCTV cameras.

One was of Sam Turner

The other of Dean Turner

The caption which was being read by any one in the room was simple.

They were wanted by the hospital and police.

How unlucky could one family be...?

Dean felt the lump that had earlier been in his throat all but choke him as he stood rooted like a pot plant in the middle of the ER; oblivious to the people who were moving around him.

Dean snapped back violently into his body. This wasn't a time to be wallowing in self pity.

It was time for action.

Dean hurriedly spun around and jogged back towards the entrance he'd earlier burst through.

_...Act normal, act like nothings wrong..._.Dean ordered himself..._Draw no attention to yourself..._

Dean was outside as he stood in the humidity that was Clearwater, Florida.

His legs were already moving back towards the car, he'd have to think of something else, he'd have to think up some other plan.

Screw thinking, this didn't make an ounce of sense. How was this whole thing possible...?

He was fuming; confused to how he'd managed to drive his brother to the one hospital that happened to want Sam and Dean Turner for god knows what reasons. Dean scrubbed his face in frustration as he paused in the evening air, the parking lot deserted as he stood there trying to think up some way of saving Sam.

He couldn't return to Sam without a plan.

He couldn't and he wouldn't.

That was what the important thing was; he'd try and figure out how their past from Jefferson City had managed to follow them all the freaking way to Florida at a later date.

But saving Sam; that was his top priority.

" Dean Turner..." The male voice boomed across the deserted parking lot, " We meet again..."

Slowly, body feeling like it was wanted the ground to open up and swallow him; Dean turned to face the man behind him, it took all of Dean's inner strength not to scream in frustration.

" You look pretty well, considering everything..." Dr. Andrew Wallis said, a prude look on his condescending face.

" Same could be said for you, after all pulling off that holier than thou doctor stint, must really be getting old for you.." Dean seethed, his voice angry, but inwardly his mind raced at the dire situation that was unfolding in front of him. " How's it going..?"

" That attitude of yours Dean, I'm sure it's got you into trouble before..?" Dr. Wallis asked with a grin, " Now, how's that brother of yours..?"

" He's none of your business..." Dean said looking angrily at the doctor as he took a step closer, " Why are you here..? Just back off doc, you don't know who you're screwing with.."

" Oh you see Dean, I do..." Andrew Wallis said with a toothy smile, " I've done my homework on your family..."

" I'm shaking..." Dean sarcastically spat, however, he was curious to know exactly where this doctor was taking this.

" You Winchesters are like bad smells..." Dr Wallis growled as he slowly advanced on Dean, his persona taking on another phase.

Dean felt the little colour that had been in his face drain away towards his feet.

" You just don't know how to stay dead..?" Wallis hissed, " Now do you boys..?"

" You're crazy..." Dean muttered, his game face expertly placed upon his handsome rugged features.

No way was he going down because of this doctor.

" Goodbye Dr. Wallis..." Dean muttered, " And I mean it, you stay the hell away from my family; or else.."

" He's ill Dean, he'll die without medical attention..." Dr. Wallis whispered, his voice gyrating in Dean's head; God that voice was so familiar.

" See you around.." Dean said already turning to leave.

" St. Louis..." Dr Wallis shouted at Dean's back. " What's with the Winchester genes..? You boys programmed to come back from the dead..? Or is it just another, what did you call it Dean, ah yes; miracle..?"

" Go to hell..." Dean growled to himself as he continued to march away; Dr Wallis' voice however continued to invade his mind. Dean's hair on his neck had already been standing on end. How had Wallis found out about St Louis..?

" You think your little handyman work you did on Sammy boy last night will save him..?" Dr. Wallis hissed, " He lost so much blood, and you stitched him together like he had a paper cut...?"

Dean kept walking, he dare not slow down. He dare not stop.

How on earth did Dr Andrew Wallis know what happened last night...?

" His blood will be on your hands Dean..." Dr Wallis shouted, " You'll fail him, the same way you failed your father; after all that is why your daddy really left. Not because of Sam, but because of you..."

" No.." Dean whispered as he his hands begun to reach for his ears, anything to physically block the sound of the doctor's aching voice that ground into his broken mind.

He could feel his feet moving faster, now running back towards the car.

How far did he park..? He'd been less than a couple of feet away from the entrance to the ER and yet, he was sprinting and still couldn't seem to make it across the parking lot.

The voice continued to drone.

" Sam will die, your lies are consuming you, you're a failure..." The voice chanted.

" Shut up..." Dean whispered as he could feel his hands shaking as they pressed harder against his ears, " Shut-up..."

" **You're a failure..."**

" Shut-up..." Dean shouted as he continued running.

Where the hell was the car..?

" **You're gonna be all alone. Left all by yourself..."**

" Shut-up...!!" Dean screamed.

" **You selfish bastard, you're so scared at being left alone you won't even let your brother get the help he needs and deserves..."**

" SHUT-UP..!!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs. His feet were frozen, his body shaking. He couldn't run anymore, his heart was racing like never before and every breath was hitched.

Spinning around to confront the doctor, Dean felt a startled cry leave his mouth.

There was no one behind him.

Nothing but the deserted parking lot, filled with cars, just like any regular parking lot.

Shaking furiously, Dean forced his breathing to slow down.

But it wouldn't.

Dead in front of him sat the Impala and slumped in the passenger seat, he could see Sam.

Dean's body was out of control, he could already feel the tears burning down his face.

The words like a mantra going around his head.

_...Your lies are consuming you..._

Dean closed his eyes as more hot tears sprung to his face.

This had to stop. This had to stop right now.

The truth had to come out.

Now...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Dean's right, the truth does have to come out….but will Sam be alive to hear it..? Thanks for reading, and please if you get a chance, drop me a little line. See you all next update.**


	14. Confessions

**Thank you to all those who sent in a review, you know I love hearing from you guys. I have to apologise with the huge gaps between updates, I am very sorry about that, I'm trying to get better at it, honest :o)**

**Also, I am totally flattered that so many people have now gone back and read 'Forsaken'. That's such a huge compliment, so thank you so much !**

** I sincerely hope everyone is still enjoying where this story is going, obviously this is chapter 14, there aren't that many more chapters to go, so we're gonna start winding down. Oh and about the last chapter, you guys are just plain evil to still hate on Dr. Wallis, the poor man can't help the fact that he's being possessed…or can he…?**

**sighs Well you can already guess what this chapter is about; I just hope you all enjoy it and fall out that follows because of it.**

**It's time we had some 'Confessions'….**

**Chapter 14- Confessions**

Dean sprinted back to the Chevy and clambered into the driving seat, stuffed the key into the ignition and threw the car into drive.

He missed the tree in front of him by a quarter of an inch.

Dean Winchester didn't look once at Sam.

He didn't have the time; he was having a difficult enough time staring through his tears as he drove like a manic down a road he'd never seen before.

In fact Dean had no idea where he where he was going or even how he was driving, all he did know was that he had to put as much distance between him and Dr. Wallis.

Dean shook his head as the voice screamed its way into his thoughts.

" **You're a lying bastard Dean, Sam's never going to forgive you for this and that is the real truth to why you won't tell him. You can't bear to see him walk away from you. You've convinced yourself that Sam will die without you, that you're his protector. Truth is, Sam keeps you alive, he keeps you sane, he keeps you together; you need him more than he will ever need you Dean..."**

Dean closed his eyes as he couldn't keep the sobs from breaking through.

He couldn't do this anymore.

Yet he didn't know how to stop this, he didn't understand how he could have let things get as far as he had done.

His lies were eating him alive, draining him of any sense he had, and emptying him of rational sense.

This wasn't like the normal Dean Winchester.

That's what confused the elder brother the most. He couldn't understand the guilt, he couldn't understand where these horrible, evil damning thoughts were coming from; all he did know, were that they were freakingly accurate.

The answer was staring him straight in the face.

Tell Sam the truth. Set himself free.

Once the truth was out, Sam would understand why he had done what he had chosen to do. Sam would understand. Yes he would be hurt, upset and probably never trust his lying ass again; but Sam would be alive and this whole mess would be over.

Sam always came around.

He was a stubborn person at the best of time, but he had a damn good heart and most importantly, he would believe that his big brother had only done these things to protect him.

Well, that's what Dean hoped.

And as the elder Winchester was quickly finding out in the last few days was that theory and practice rarely ever went hand in hand in this family.

Dean shook his head.

His actions weren't making any sense at all.

Sam had been ill, hence why he was taking him to the hospital. Yet the moment he'd seen Dr Wallis he'd jumped in the car and drove away; but the point of going to the hospital still hadn't changed.

Sam was still sick.

And too quiet beside him in the car.

Dean glanced over at Sam's perfectly still form, the elder brother's face feeling taut from the tears that had now subsided, but the knot of dread in his stomach still remained.

He forced his eyes back to the road, his knuckles white from the grip.

He did the only thing he could do on auto pilot.

Dean drove them home...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester's hazel eyes flickered open slowly. It took a few seconds for him to focus but he was surprised to discover where he was.

He was in Dean's room.

In Dean's bed.

Yet Dean wasn't in the room with him.

Pushing the sheets off him slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position and glanced at the red lights on the digital clock that sat on the night stand.

It had just gone 1am.

Taking in a deep breath, Sam's hand suddenly touched his stomach. He'd been so surprised to discover to where he was, that the glaring obvious new revelation that had taken place in the last few hours had apparently not hit home straight away.

His fever was gone.

In fact while he wouldn't go as far as admitting to feeling wonderful, he honestly felt about as good as he had since being released from the hospital.

Swinging his legs over the bed, and his mind thinking clearly for the first time in weeks; Sam's curiosity and determination flooded back into him.

The younger Winchester was cautious as he stood up and another revelation hit him as he touched his side in shock.

Dismissing this disclosure, Sam pulled the door open all the way and padded into the living room, where he spotted Dean sitting in the dimly hit room, on the sofa, his elder brother's back to him.

Sam swallowed to himself, he had a feeling something big was about to go down. Maybe this was what they needed, a chance to talk, to get everything out in the open. Something was clearly wrong with Dean, Sam had noticed it since he'd awoken from his coma; but drawing information from Dean was like extracting teeth, just friggin painful.

Walking over to Dean, Sam stood at the side of the sofa and took in the haggard form that was his elder brother. Dean looked every inch the four years of extra life he had over his younger brother.

In fact in this light, you could have probably lumped on another two or three years.

Sam stood at the sofa staring at his big brother's profile, wondering how long it would take Dean to acknowledge him; and then it hit Sam, Dean wasn't going to acknowledge him.

Not tonight at least.

Sucking in a shaky breath and pushing his own building fears aside and fighting through his own confusion, Sam silently knelt down on his knees and stayed in front of Dean. The little brother stared at the bottle of whiskey that sat opened on the coffee table, and the glass that sat in his brother's hand.

Big brother Dean hadn't taken a sip.

Yet Sam had no idea how long he'd been sitting out on his own with the glass in his hand.

" Dean..?" Sam finally said, his own hand gently reaching up and removing the glass attentively from Dean's hand. No point startling him, and with the battering and abuse Sam had already taken in the last few days, giving Dean a weapon just seemed like an open invitation for another fight.

Sam stared at Dean, his hazel green eyes vacant and lost.

" Dean...?" Sam said this time touching Dean's knee and giving it a squeeze, trying to bring him out of the retreat Dean's brain had obviously taken.

Dean's eyes finally fell on Sam and he was greeted with a warm, bright smile.

Sam hid his nerves well. It was time to out his own fear aside, time to put his own grievances aside, time to put this hunt aside and actually be there for Dean.

Be there for him one hundred and ten percent.

" Hi..." Sam said smiling at him, " You ok in there...?"

" The fever..." Dean whispered as confusion battered its way into his voice, " I...I...thought..."

" Yeah, looks like the old hibby-jibbies took a leave of absence and cut me a break..." Sam said his voice warm and thick with reassurance.

Dean just nodded quietly yet his eyes never left Sam's hazel eyes. Dean finally tore away from him and stood up from the sofa, as he walked to the other sofa opposite to where Sam was.

Sam stared at Dean from the floor.

" I can't do this..." Dean suddenly blurted out as tears stun at his eyes. He crumbled into the other sofa as the tears begun to slip out. Sam crawled over to him as Dean sat with his hands over his face, trying to gain composure, but even stringing sentences together was too hard at the moment.

All Sam could do was watch.

Watch and feel utterly helpless. He was on the verge of tears himself and he didn't know why. He'd always been like that; his empathy with other people was just one thing on a long list that Dean would joke as his Achilles heel. When he saw people upset he always got upset himself, when he saw a loved one cry, he was in tears himself.

But when he saw Dean in tears, it firstly shocked him, and then scared him.

Dean was the kind of person who would rather smash the room to pieces than ever openly cry in front of anyone, would rather chew his arms off with own teeth than ever admit that he was in pain.

Yet here he was.

Sam's all talking, all walking, action hero of a big brother was in a state that could only be described as bordering hysteria.

Sam could feel his own tears welling up inside, but blinked them away; one of them had to hold it together, and for once it was going to be Sam, whether he wanted to or not.

" It'll be ok..." Sam said, remaining on the sofa, his face quite close to Dean who lay on his side on the sofa. " Whatever it is Doone, we'll fix it..."

" I can't.." Dean finally admitted, " I can't do this anymore..." As tears tore away at him as he looked at Sam for help, " I can't do this anymore Sammy, I can't..."

Sam felt something cold drip onto his hand, it was then he realised he'd already started crying himself.

The little brother gently reached his hand forward and messed with Dean's dark brown hair.

" I promise you, whatever it is, we can do it, you and me..." Sam said smiling through his tears, " We can do this..."

Dean simply shook his head.

Dean closed his eyes as he felt the tears escaping down his face. He couldn't look into his brother's eyes anymore, he couldn't stare at him a second longer.

God this was hard.

This was too hard.

Give him a freaking zombie or rawhead to waste any day of the friggin week than have this horrible, debilitating mass driving him mad inside.

The guilt, the self hating was just too much for him.

He just wanted it to stop; he just wanted everything to stop.

He wanted his dad back. He wanted John back to tell him what to do, where to go, and how to hunt. He wanted his little Sammy back, the one who hadn't died and come back to life, the one who was stubborn but so loving and kind hearted.

Dean buried his face in his hands.

Why had he lied...? Why had he opened his stupid mouth and told that one stupid lie that had led to so many more lies and now to this. To where he was tonight, lying on the sofa, worrying his brother to no end, feeling like the most evil human being on the planet.

" Please talk to me..." Sam said, his voice breaking through Dean's thoughts. " Dean, I want to help you..."

Dean finally took his hands away, the dim light from the lamp hardly throwing any light in there direction. Dean was suddenly grateful to that. He did not want to see Sam's reaction to this.

Dean felt fresh tears build in his eyes and he realised what he was about to say would change his life, his relationship with Sam forever. He was about to betray Sam, and he knew that his little brother would never trust him in the same way again.

And Dean knew it was his entire fault.

" You're the most important person in my life Sam..." Dean managed to say, the words now tumbling out, forcing himself to start and not to stop, not even if Sam interjected.

The words had to come out.

" I never meant to hurt you, or to let things get this bad..." Dean said as tears fled from his eyes. The elder brother could only stare at Sam's eyes which were welling up in front of him.

Sam looked shocked.

" Dean, it's ok, I know things have been pretty crappy these last few weeks, but hey, maybe we've hit full circle now.." Sam said chuckling through his sadness, " Things can only get better eh..?"

His never say die attitude, his perspective to be able to see the bigger picture. Dean stared at Sam's face.

God he was scared.

" I...I lied to you.." Dean chocked out as he watched as Sam's facial expression, being subtly suppressed by the darkened room, but unable to hide the blatant look of surprise on Sam's face.

Dean could feel his fear building.

" I'm so sorry Sam..." Dean whispered, " I am, so sorry, from the bottom of my heart, I never ever meant for things to get like this..."

" Wow, you ramble when you're nervous.." Sam kidded as he looked up at Dean's face. " It's ok, we all tell lies now and again, it's a part of life..."

Dean shook his head, if only it had been as easy as Sam was saying it was.

" You don't understand…" Dean said in a quiet tone, " Sam, you really don't understand what I've done…"

Sam sighed heavily and shifted his weight under him, " Then make me understand, tell me everything, start from the very beginning.."

Dean's eyes were wide, filled with fear, filled with the unknown. God that stinking unknown feeling of dread that was tying a knot in his stomach, God he hated it.

His hazel green eyes locked with Sam's.

" I panicked, I panicked when they told me you were so ill…" Dean admitted, " They kept telling me that any stress, anything that could make you…." Dean's voice trailed off as he rubbed his face with his hands.

Sam just stared at Dean, doing his best to remove the confusion from his face.

" I couldn't lose you again…" Dean finally whispered, the pain inside real, the image as vivid as if it was taking place again.

" You never lost me Dean, never…" Sam reassured him, " Look, I can only imagine how odd it must have been for me to be in a coma, but that's not your fault or anyone else's…"

" But I did lose you…" Dean said slowly, finally meeting Sam's eyes, " You died Sam…"

Sam stared at Dean, he couldn't have heard that correct.

No way could he have heard that correct.

Yet Dean's face offered no humour at all.

Just fear and a look of horror.

" You came to me…" Dean explained in a splutter, " You were all in while, this, this, beautiful, peaceful angel and you came to me.."

" Whoa, hang on a minute…-" Sam said unable to suppress his confusion anymore.

Dean however wasn't listening.

" I was lying on your bed, you were in this stupid coma, you wouldn't wake up, I was so angry with you, I was yelling at you, blaming you for leaving me outside, while you stayed nice and safe in that world of yours…" Dean ranted, " I fell asleep, and woke up and there you were, standing beside me, while in the bed in front of me, was you, completely comatose !"

" I died..?" Sam whispered, the words not really sinking in yet.

" You stood there and told me…" Dean whispered as his voice broke again, the memory vivid in front of him. " You told me that I was never going to be alone, and that you'd always watch over me…"

Sam stared at Dean, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

" Then you died…" Dean whispered, his voice taunt and raw " The doctors tried to do everything, I was in there with you, and it made no difference; I couldn't save you…"

" Dean…" Sam whispered as his hand stretched out towards Dean, yet his brother angrily yanked his hand away.

" You died Sam, and you left me there…!" Dean angrily shouted, " I couldn't save you, and you left me all alone…"

" Where was dad..? Why wasn't he there..?" Sam suddenly asked, " Dean, what is going on, how did…-" Sam's voice trailed off as he now sat with his back against the sofa.

There were just too many questions.

Dean stared at his brother.

Sam stared back.

They're eyes locked together nervously, neither wanting to talk, but too desperate to stay silent.

Dean finally looked away from Sam, and Sam could feel the fear that had been consuming, now devour him in anger.

" I asked you a question…" Sam asked rigidly, trying to draw the nerves from his voice, desperate to keep the anger out of it. " Dean, I asked you a question..!"

" I'm sorry…" Dean whispered as he looked at Sam, his Sam, his little brother that he'd dedicated his life to, to keep safe and it was all about to come tumbling down around him.

His house of cards was falling, fast.

" Why wasn't dad there..?" Sam asked again, his voice steady yet bleeding emotion, " Dean..?!"

" I don't know Sam…" Dean finally whispered, " I came round and he was gone…"

Sam stared at Dean, his eyes never leaving his brother's face. Dean swallowed, there was Sammy once again using his eyes to invade his soul.

A shaky smile came to Sam's face; it was either smile or scream the house down.

" Gone..? Gone where, exactly..?" Sam said his hands on his hips as he tried to digest what he was being told, " Gone, like on a picnic gone, or gone as in see you later Dean..?"

There was silence from Dean. Just rigid, uncomfortable, silence.

Sam bit his bottom lip in frustration.

" When you first came round..?" Sam pushed, " As in, from the crash…?"

" Sam…" Dean whispered, " I thought I was doing the right thing…"

Sam's eyes widened as the full extent to what Dean had done burrowed through his body.

He felt sick.

" You lied to me.." Sam stammered out as he scrambled off the floor and walked across the room, his body needing to do something in fear it might just implode, " Oh my god, you, you lied to me, about everything…"

Dean felt his heart drop like a stone as he got up from the sofa; he took a step towards his little brother.

" Stay away from me.." Sam spat, his hands going to arms length as he watched as Dean froze on the spot. A strangled chuckle escaped Sam's mouth, his head slowly shaking from side to side, " Everything you've told me for the last three weeks has been nothing but a lie…"

" It's not like that Sam, I promise you, it's not how you think it is..?" Dean whispered, as he again tried to come over to Sam.

" Really..?!" Sam shouted almost bordering hysterical, " Then Dean, you tell me what the hell I should be thinking, cause right now, I don't know what to think.."

Dean looked at Sam who was sinking onto the floor, his back against the wall, his hands rubbing his aching temples.

" I didn't want to lose you, not after that, not after seeing it, watching it happen…" Dean managed to say, realising he wasn't making an ounce of sense, " I didn't know what to do, so I just did something…"

" Where is dad..?" Sam finally asked looking up at Dean.

" I don't know…" Dean finally admitted his head dropping, " He left me co-ordinates, that's all.."

" So, what you're telling me is that everything you've been feeding me from the moment I woke up has been nothing but one, evil, filthy lie…" Sam whispered his voice breaking as he looked at Dean.

Sam's eyes locked angrily with Dean's, " I went searching the morgue because of you, I knew you were lying to me. You promised me, you promised me you lying son of a bitch..!"

Dean's body shook at Sam's words, each verb cutting into him like the very sickle Sam owned. Dean sunk into the sofa again, his legs now refusing to stand; his eyes refusing to be filled with the essence of pain that sat on the floor, his heart couldn't cope with the guilt he felt.

The elder brother was feeling light headed.

" Is that what you're telling me..?" Sam asked again.

Dean nodded silently.

" I am such an idiot…" Sam whispered to himself in anger, " I am, such a friggin idiot.."

" Sammy.." Dean started not even knowing where he was going with this sentence, but knowing he had to say something.

" Why now..?" Sam asked quietly, " Why are you telling me all of this now..?"

" Cause it was eating me alive.." Dean admitted as tears sprung to his eyes, he blinked them back in anger, " I have never wanted to talk to you so desperately in my life…"

" So why didn't you..?" Sam shouted at him, " You let me believe that we could be a family again, that dad knew what he doing and was off to try and get us all back together again. You told me that he didn't blame me for any of this, you told me, that this is what he wanted, you made me believe that he was ok with what I did…"

" He is.." Dean found himself whispering.

" How..!?" Sam screamed at Dean, " When you haven't seem him either. The last time we all saw each other was back in that cabin when I once again, failed dad…"

Dean went quiet his eyes falling to his lap.

" I never wanted it to get this far.." Dean explained, " I wanted to tell you, I wanted to tell you everything; but I got…..-"

Dean watched as Sam clambered to his feet and headed for the veranda door, Dean stood up from the sofa.

" Where are you going..? Sam..?" Dean demanded, surprise taking over his voice.

" Anywhere…" Sam admitted, " I need to clear my head.."

" It's the middle of the night, there is a spirit screwing with our heads…" Dean finally said, " You can't go out by yourself…"

" Spirit..?" Sam said with a dry chuckle, " I'd rather take my chances with that, than stay in here.."

" I'll leave…" Dean quickly said, " You stay in the house.."

" No…" Sam interjected, his stubborn streak on full view, " You stay, I won't go far…"

Dean folded his arms across his chest, his feelings of vulnerability was at an all time high, in fact this was the worse he'd ever felt.

" Sammy…?" Dean called out as he watched his brother duck onto the deck through the still broken veranda door.

Sam turned and looked at his elder brother; there was an unusual note in his big brother's voice. It was that one note that had caused him to stop and look back. It oozed uncertainty.

" Don't call me Sammy…" Sam whispered quietly as he looked back at Dean.

" You and me…" Dean said forcing a hopeful smile to his face, anything to keep the tears that were shining in his eyes exactly where they were. " We'll be ok, right..? We'll get over this..?"

Sam's eyes dropped down to the floor, he knew Dean was waiting for an answer.

" Get some rest Dean, we're tracking this spirit down tomorrow and getting rid of it.." Sam said simply, " I'm sick of it screwing our heads around.."

" It told me that if I ever told you the truth that I would lose you forever…" Dean said his voice breaking, " Please don't prove it right Sam…"

Sam heard his brother's voice break, and it pulled at Sam's heart.

The little brother swallowed as he studied the broken man that stood in their little beach side apartment; their home.

Dean was scared.

It wasn't something that Sam was used to seeing.

" Get some rest eh Dean..? We got a long day ahead of us.." Sam said finally, and with that he disappeared from Dean's view.

Dean sunk onto the sofa he'd earlier been curled up in.

There, he'd done it. He'd finally told the truth. He'd finally set himself free.

Everything was supposed to sort themselves out now.

Yet, nothing had sorted itself out.

The only thing that he'd accomplished was the one reason why he'd kept on lying.

To stop Sam from hating him.

And yet Sam had left, with nothing but hate on his mind. Hate and betrayal; and Dean didn't blame him at all.

After all, this was, all his fault….

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**(phew) What a heavy chapter, but it's finally out. Dean's dirty little secret is now out, but at what cost..? Will Sam ever forgive him..? And what about this friggin spirit that continues to destroy their lives..? Stay turned to find out ! Oh and if you're still reading, don't forget to leave me a little review, nothing like a review to put you in a writing mood !**


	15. Dearest Daddy

**Update time again. Humm, judging from the reaction of chapter 14, I'm on the mind set that you guys weren't that impressed with Dean's confession. Ah well, nothing I can do about it now, that part of the secret is now out and there's no way it's going back in the box.**

**Thank you to those who did leave me a review, it was nice knowing what you thought of the situation and of course where you think this is going now. Extra credit to the reader who spotted that Dean only told Sam part of the truth, you get the extra cookie :o)**

**Well hope you guys like this chapter, its a little looksie to where John's been since he took off from 'Forsaken'.**

**Chapter 15- Dearest Daddy**

Sam Winchester marched along the sand, angrily ploughing into the dry, grainy substance with every step he took. The night air was peaceful and on any other night, Sam would have enjoyed the scene of serenity that was Clearwater Beach.

Tonight however was not any other night.

Sam finally stopped stomping and sank onto the sand in the darkness and drew his knees up to his chest. He heard his stomach rumble, he'd still not found the time to eat.

He knew behind him a couple hundred feet, sat his temporary home. Sam felt a sarcastic chuckle escape his mouth.

Temporary home.

All of half an hour it hadn't had the word temporary in front of it.

It was just home.

The Winchester home.

And all Sam had been waiting for was for their Dad to come back from his trip and join them in their home.

Sam shook his head, he could feel the anger stewing through his veins, but realised more dangerously that the anger was passing and sadness was quickly descending on him. Sam wasn't ready to deal with the sadness; he still wanted to deal with his anger. Part of him wanted to punch him, oh man did part of him just want to grab Dean and bash some sense into that head of his.

The other just wanted to wrap his arms around him and tell him that everything would be ok.

That he forgave him.

That they would be ok.

Sam sighed as he let his chin rest on his hands, the wind gently blowing his shaggy brown hair off his face. The sea air was warm and thick with salt. Just a wonderful experience that any other night would have been heaven sent to the youngest of the Winchesters.

He'd died.

Sam shook his head, Dean must have been in some warped, confusing reality for him to believe that he could actually die and come back to life. Those things didn't happen, those things couldn't happen.

At least Sam was pretty sure they couldn't happen.

" No way..." Sam murmured, " He can't be..."

Dean couldn't be right; yet it explained Dean's completely freaked out behaviour.

Sam sighed as he thought about Dean. His warrior brother, his protector. The idiot had been so busy trying to protect him that he'd never stopped once to consider how things would actually turn out; Dean had assumed that things would just be ok.

Lies, it wasn't something Dean and Sam did. In their line of work, in their relationship, lies simply didn't pay. I mean, of course there were times where they'd both covered up over stupid things they'd done, those kinds of things were allowed, those were ok; but this lie wasn't ok.

Which is why it puzzled Sam even more, to why Dean had continued to lie to him..? This just wasn't how Dean operated; the normal Dean would have sat him down as soon as they had got out from the hospital and told him the truth.

Sam chuckled out loud again at his own wistful thinking.

Who exactly was he trying to convince..? Himself..? Dean would have never told Sam the truth about their father, simply because he was trying to save Sam feeling the same empty loss and abandonment that Dean had been experiencing the last few weeks.

Sam for a minute tried to place himself in Dean's shoes, and truth was, he'd do anything to try and keep Dean's peace of mind. To feel that alone, to wake up from the crash and find out that their father had bailed on them, to discover that your brother was dying; it would have been enough to send Sam into the loopy bin. But it had been Dean who had woken up and was left to fend for himself again, Dean had been left to pick up the broken pieces that were once again the Winchester family.

And Dean had done it without once asking for help. He hadn't asked once, he'd just sucked it up and got on with it, like he did each and every time.

Sam felt his anger grow suddenly; how could his father have been so stupid to leave both his children in hospital and take off the way he did..? Did John just assume that Sam would wake up from the coma and that everything would be alright again, the soldiers would be ready for another battle..?

Dean's obvious anger and flinching at the mention of their father recently suddenly made a lot of sense. Dean was stinking mad at what his father had done, and judging from Dean's broken performance tonight, Dean was also feeling very, very alone and unwanted.

Sam sighed heavily.

Dean didn't deserve to feel unwanted.

No matter what he did, and no matter how angry Sam was with Dean; Sam knew his brother had done what he did because he cared.

" Stupid idiot..." Sam said with a chuckle as he slowly got to his feet.

Dean was scared.

Sam was always sure that behind all that bravado that Dean oozed, lay a young boy that had never been allowed to show any emotion, to grieve, to celebrate, or just be normal. Dean had no idea how to deal with what was going on inside of him, and tonight he'd just imploded on himself.

As Sam trotted back to the house, still unsure of what he was going to say to Dean, how he would deal with Dean, he knew that he didn't have the right to make his brother suffer for this. Yes his stupid brother had made a huge mistake by lying to him, but that was all it was; a mistake.

Dean was beating himself up enough over it; Sam wasn't going to add to the blows that Dean was raining in on himself.

There was just too much to think about.

Sam wasn't quite ready to deal with the fact that he'd been dead and was now, well, very much alive; he'd deal with that another day.

The standing over Sam's bed, prodding him awake every night, checking on him all the time; it now all made sense.

Dean was terrified that Sam was going to die.

No wonder Dean resembled a thirty year old man at the moment, the boyish youth his brother seeped with his smile, charm, eyes; in the last few weeks they'd just vanished. Instead Sam had been on the receiving end of confusion, nerves, agitation, anger, and guilt.

Lots and lots of weird guilt.

Sam considered the thought as he approached the house. There was something not quite right about tonight, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but something wasn't making sense to the younger Winchester.

And then it hit him.

_...It said if I told you the truth that I'd lose you forever; please don't let it be right..._

Dean's voice echoed in Sam's head like a painful premonition.

Sam's foot rested on the bottom step of the beach house, an intense look filtered across his face.

Who the hell was Dean talking about..?

Sam's face was registered on determination; there was only one way to find out.

Ask the man himself...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

John Winchester grabbed his cell phone off his bag, just as his ring tone cut out. His hair still dripping water from the earlier shower he'd just had, pooled droplets onto his bed.

Sitting down on the bed, he noticed the three missed calls, all from the same person.

Bobby.

John swallowed as he sucked in a deep breath and hit re-dial. The phone was answered instantly.

" Where the hell are you Johnny..?" Bobby spat down the phone, " I've been trying to call you all day.."

" Is everything ok..?" John curtly asked, purposely ignoring the anger that was clear in his old hunter buddy's voice. " My boys, are they alright..?"

" You would know the answer to that John if you were here.." Bobby muttered, which was then promptly followed by a groan.

John's heart skipped a beat.

" What's happened to them...?" John demanded, " Is Sam alright..? Dean..? Bobby for god sakes, what's going on..?"

" They've vanished..." Bobby finally said in a small voice, " I'm trying my best here John, I was keeping an eye on them, but it's hard to spy on them when you're not supposed to be seen by them; your boys are good at tracking.."

A small smile flickered across John's face, despite the situation. " Did Dean catch you tailing them..?"

" No..!" Bobby said sounding disgusted at the thought, his voice however then dropped; the hostility vanished, " John where are you..?"

" I'm checking into a few things..." John said tightly, " Look, is everything ok with my boys, cause I really have to go.."

" I just told you they vanished, and you're telling me you got to get going...?" Bobby snapped, " What the hell is wrong with you..?"

" Look, Dean's probably taken Sam out of the hospital for the day or so, you know, the boys are probably climbing the walls in there..." John said with a sigh, " Dean goes crazy if you leave him anywhere too long, and a day in a hospital is too long for that boy.."

" John, I thought we could find them, there are so many people looking out for them, keeping an eye and we've all turned up nothing.." Bobby finally said. " John, I know you're following up on the bastard you're after, that's why I didn't get in contact sooner, but, man, now we're running out of ideas and options.."

John was silent; the blood was running cold in his system. He finally found his voice.

" When was the last time you saw them..?" John whispered, his voice barely audible.

" About two weeks ago..." Bobby said quickly, " Johnny, we've got every hunter under the sun looking for them.."

John's heart somersaulted into his mouth. This could not be happening. It couldn't be. Not know. Not when he was so close to getting to the one thing he needed more than anything. Not when he was so close to finally finding a way to killing the yellow eyed bastard.

" Call the hunters off..." John said in a small voice.

" What..?" Bobby said, unable to hide the shock in his voice. " Why..? John they're better than the freaking police...!"

" How the hell did this happen..?!" John said feeling his anger boiling, his frustration growing. This was too unfair, he'd come so far, come so close; and now everything was about to come tumbling down around him.

" John, calm down..." Bobby said in a plain tone, " Last time they were spotted was in the parking lot with the Impala..."

" Two weeks ago..? But Sam wouldn't have even been well enough to leave the hospital..? Bobby, god sakes, I ask you to do one thing..!" John shouted, unable to hide his anger no more, " Just keep an eye on them, but instead, you let them take off, and then not bother to tell me about it until two weeks after it's happened..!"

" Now hang on a friggin second John, no way in hell are you pinning this crap on me..!" Bobby spat, " I care about your boys, but god damn it John, they're your boys, not mine ! You're supposed to be looking after them, taking care of them !"

" You son of a bitch..." John snarled, the truth hitting him like razors.

" I told you not to take off, I warned you that Dean and Sam would realise that you bailed on them, I told you not to leave them...!" Bobby yelled, his voice filled with intensity " Now your boys are gone, gone where nobody knows; yet you want to pin this on me..?"

There was silence from the other end.

" John, is the information you found worth this much to you..? Is it worth losing your sons, cause if you don't be careful, you're gonna lose both your children, if you haven't done so already..." Bobby said heatedly, however there was a hint of sadness in his voice; sadness that John heard.

" John..?" Bobby snapped, " John, we have to do something, now..."

" I'm gonna start looking..." John said in a small voice.

" We'll find them..." Bobby said simply, " Every hunter I know is looking for them.."

John winced at what he was about to say.

" I need you to call all those hunters and tell them that you made a mistake, that my boys had gone on vacation somewhere, anywhere; just get them to stop looking for my children.." John said in a no nonsense tone.

" Why..?" Bobby asked in confusion, " You need all the help you can get John, you said so yourself, Sam isn't well enough to be leaving the hospital, yet he's taken off with Dean somewhere. Unless your brain has switched off John, Dean loves his brother more than anything, there is no way in hell that Dean would drag Sam's butt out of that hospital without having a damn good reason why.."

John was quiet for a moment as he considered the suggestion. His heart tightened again.

" Something's after them..." John finally concluded with a sigh.

" It's the only thing that makes sense.." Bobby muttered, " You still want me to call the other hunters and tell them to back off...?"

John chewed his bottom lip as he thought about the new dimension to the equation.

" Yes..." John said in a breathless tone as he heard Bobby gasp in confusion.

" Johnny, what the hell is going on...?" Bobby demanded, " I want to know, now...!"

" I'll talk to you soon Bobby, I promise..." John quickly said as he watched his bedroom door open, " Please, just get the others to back off them, please..."

Before Bobby had a chance to protest the order, John hung up on him.

John's hazel eyes looked up from his sitting position on the bed and met with a pair of concerned brown eyes.

" You look like you could do with a shot of whiskey..." Ben Vetorio said as he sat down on the bed beside John.

The forty-six year old man smiled at John Winchester, who was deep in thought.

" John, you better level with me..." Ben finally said.

John sighed deeply as his head dropped.

" My boys.." John said quietly, " They've taken off..."

Ben's eyes widened, " Taken off, where..?"

" I don't know, but from what I can guess is that something must be after them..." John said scrubbing his face in frustration. " All the hunters are trying to help find them..."

Ben clicked his tongue as he looked at John's profile, " You think that's such a good idea considering, well, you know, everything..."

" They've been missing two weeks..." John finally admitted, as he looked up at Ben, " Ben, I left Dean some co-ordinates sending them to New York..."

" To us..?" Ben said in disbelief, " So you've sent hunters here, after everything you said..."

" I've got Bobby calling them off, I promised you I'd keep you can your family safe, not to mention my own boys, after everything with Sam and his visions and stuff, he's a walking freaking target to those people.."

" And this friend of yours whose calling off the hunters, can you trust him..?" Ben asked curiously, his ebony black hair falling into his eyes as he refused to break the eye contact with the uncomfortable looking John Winchester in front of him. " Or is he also a hunter..?"

" Bobby is a hunter, but he's a good guy Ben..." John said, " He won't do anything to hurt any of my boys..."

" It's not your boys I'm worried about, it's mine.." Ben said now standing up, his bronze skin seemed to boil in anger as he looked at John. " I knew this was gonna happen..."

" I told you that I wouldn't endanger your family, and I meant it Ben.." John said in a reassuring tone, " You're my last hope at catching this freaking thing, if I wasn't desperate, I wouldn't be here.."

" I don't like lying to my boys..." Ben hissed as he trained his ears to keep listening for the bedroom door, " They think you're just an old friend of their dads..."

A smile mustered on John's face, " That's technically not a lie, we are old friends..."

" Johnny, you're a hunter, your kind kills my kind for a friggin living..!" Ben snapped heatedly, " The situation is anything but laugh worthy, do you have any idea what would happen if hunters blew through this town and worked out who my kids are, what they are...?"

" I will not lead anyone to you, I gave you my word..." John said with a smile, " I won't let anything happen to your boys, I've got to know them in the last couple weeks, and they remind me so much of my own; I won't let any hunter come near them..."

" You better not..." Ben said simply, a small smile filtering onto his handsome face, " Cause I won't protect your ass from them if you get busted, cause after my two are done with you, then you'll deal with me..."

" I can't think of anything more scary than dealing with three Vetorio's..." John said with a smile, but his face slowly clouded as he thought once again about his boys.

Ben sighed loudly and looked over at his old friend.

" Any ideas where your boys would go..? Or what they're running from..?" Ben asked with a sigh, which John shook his head at.

" I don't have a clue, they've been gone for two weeks and nobody has a clue to what direction they took off from..." John admitted, " It's like they just dropped off the face of the earth..."

John's stomach suddenly plummeted to his feet, the colour drained from his face.

" Unless they're de..-" John started to whisper, but the words wouldn't allow for completion.

" Uh-uh..." Ben said furiously shaking his head, " No way, not your two. If there even half as good as you say they are, then there fine.."

" God I hope you're right..." John said in a small voice, " Ben, if anything happens to them, if I lose them..."

" You won't..." Ben said putting an arm on John's shoulder and giving it a squeeze, " I promise you, we won't let anything get your boys..."

" Thanks.." John said with a weak smile.

" But first we got to find them..." Ben said with a smile. " Leave that to me..."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Hope you enjoyed it, and please if you get a chance leave little old me a review. I'm dying for some freaking inspiration here people !**


	16. Bonds

**(sighs) I know, I'm late with updates, but to be honest, life is kicking me in the ass at the moment and I got flu to boot ! So feeling totally and utterly miserable :o(**

**Thanks to those who are still reviewing, your little words of encouragement are honestly the only thing keeping me going with this story. The bright news is, it's nearly at the end, only a few more chapters to go.**

**I'm glad most of you guys picked up on the importance of 'Ben and his boys' they'll be around, as will John…why..? Well you'll have to keep reading to finding out.**

**As for the scenes between Sam and Dean….well, your wish is my command :o)**

**Oh, and well, please do drop a line if you are reading this story, got questions, confused about certain things, anything….I'll be happy to talk about them.**

**Anyway, on with 'Bonds'…**

**Chapter 16- Bonds**

" _Doone, are you ok..?" Sam Winchester asked, as he stood on tip-toes peeping up at his elder brother, who was stretched out on their father's bed._

" _I'm fine Sam, how many times I got to tell you to stop calling me Doone...?" Dean muttered the eleven year old, shooting a look of mock annoyance at his seven year old brother._

" _Daddy was real mad with you..." Sam said in a small voice as he finally managed to crawl onto his father's bed. His hazel eyes obviously looked impressed at the size of bed. " This bed is huge, bigger than the one we've got..."_

" _Yeah, that's another thing, stopping kicking me during the night..!" Dean muttered, " You're like a mule...!"_

" _You snore..." Sam said poking his tongue out, " Besides, I didn't tell daddy you pinched me last night.."_

_Dean gave the little boy a suspicious look, " Why is that..? Cause you usually always rat on me.."_

" _Cause I heard you and daddy fighting this morning..." Sam said with a shrug, " He sounded real mad, and you were real upset.."_

" _Was not..!" Dean snapped heatedly, " You have an over active imagination...!"_

_Sam turned and faced his brother and Dean gave him a weird look._

" _What, is with the staring...?" Dean demanded, " You're a weird little boy you know that..?"_

_A smile spread across Sam's face and to Dean's surprise, Sam threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly. Dean instantly tried to wriggle out, screaming out cooties, but eventually gave in and gave Sam a quick cuddle._

" _What's wrong with you, weirdo..?" Dean said as Sam pulled away from him and looked into his big brother's face, his little fingers instantly going to trace the couple of freckles Dean had on his face. _

_Dean swatted the hand away._

" _Hey, Sammy, I asked you a question, what's with the hug..?" Dean asked, " Cause you know, you can't do these things, you'll get your head kicked in by the other kids..."_

" _I love you..." Sam said his eyes bright and innocent as he scrambled off the bed, leaving Dean still sitting on his knees in the middle of the king size bed._

_Dean watched as Sam re-opened the bedroom door. _

" _Sammy...?" Dean called as he watched as his little brother paused and looked at him, " We need to talk.."_

" _I know, I know..." Sam said still standing awkwardly in the door way, " Daddy will go mad if he hears me being mushy.."_

" _So why are you being mushy..?" Dean asked as he titled his head at his little brother. " Cause declarations of love can often lead to wedgies.."_

" _Huh.?" Sam asked in confusion, which Dean laughed out loud at._

" _Just don't say those words ok, no more telling me you love me, or hugs and stuff, we're guys Sammy, and guys don't say those things, dad's right, it's not cool..." Dean cautioned, " Ok..?"_

_Sam was quiet, his brown hair hiding his face from Dean._

" _Sam..?" Dean asked again, " Did you hear me..?"_

" _I just thought that since daddy was mad at you, you'd think that no one loved you, I just wanted you to know that I'd always love you..." Sam said, his voice innocent._

_Eleven year old Dean stared as his bare foot little brother shuffled out the bedroom and disappeared from his sight..._

Dean hovered uncomfortably at his window in his bedroom, staring out into the darkness, wishing he didn't feel the way he did.

The elder Winchester hugged his body with his arms as he sunk down at the foot of his bed. He was still shaking, shaking from what had happened, shaking from what he'd said, shaking from Sam's heartbroken response, shaking because he knew what Sam was thinking.

He hated him.

His little brother, the forever child in his eyes, now hated him.

Dean tried desperately to blink the tears away that had sprung to his eyes again. He couldn't think of a moment in his life where he'd cried as much as he had done so tonight. He was exhausted, literally worn out both mentally and physically, if anything was lurking around looking for an unsuspecting victim, Dean would pretty much stick his hand up and volunteer for the job of mauling.

Shaking his heavy head, feeling the throbbing beginnings of a headache, Dean stared at the digital clock that sat on his nightstand.

The elder brother was surprised to read that it was almost 4am.

Sam was still not back.

Dean sucked in a shaky breath as he tried to force himself to his feet. He had to find his cell, he had to call Sam, he had to straighten this whole mess out.

The tears stung again.

_...He'll never forgive you, you betrayed him, he's gone away and he's never coming back..._

That was one of Dean's biggest fears; in fact if he was honest it was his greatest fear. The elder brother hadn't realised how much he actually was afraid of losing Sam until he'd stood in front of Sam tonight and confessed his lies. Dean had never felt this strength in his fear; after all he had lost Sam already.

Dean knew what that pain felt like, he'd experienced the loss, felt it like a death grip, wrapping its icy fingers around his heart and crushing any hope out of his world.

As corny and pathetic as it sounded, Sam was Dean's world. The elder brother didn't know a world which didn't contain his little brother. Yes, Sam had originally left and headed off to college, but Dean had always known that Sam would be on the end of a telephone if need be, or if things got desperate, he could always jump in the Impala and come see him; which ironically, was the exact situation that had reunited the brothers after two years.

But tonight's situation was completely different.

Sam had left because he couldn't bear to look at Dean another second, had been so hurt at the fact that Dean had lied to him, had felt so betrayed by his elder brother that he'd rather stay alone on a deserted beach than share the same apartment with him.

Sam had been left feeling betrayed and hurt.

Dean just felt empty.

Laying back onto his bed his eyes fell on the ceiling. He wanted to get up and head out onto the beach and start looking for Sam. He had to talk to him, had to make him understand that it was all just a horrible lie that simply got out of control. He had to make Sam understand that he'd only lied to him because he loved him, because he wanted to protect him.

Dean closed his eyes, allowing for a second for his brain to take a breather.

He did love Sam.

He wouldn't have lied if he hadn't.

Yet Sam believed that he'd lied to him because he didn't love him.

Tears stung at Dean's eyes.

What a complicated, hideous world the Winchesters were trapped in...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester had got all the way to the middle step of the beach apartment, and then found himself retreating back down.

He'd spotted Dean pacing around inside, disappearing into his bedroom and then back to the living room, to peep outside the window.

Dean didn't pace.

Dean always prowled.

His big brother was a well oiled machine who was always ready for action, poised for an attack, always ready.

Yet the Dean in that apartment, in their home, was pacing.

Back and forth, frantic eyes peering out into the darkness in hope of spotting someone.

Sam wasn't ready for yet another show down, for yet another discussion about this. He'd thought he was, was all ready to go in there and tell Dean that things would be ok, to pull himself together because they had a spirit to find and waste, and then after the dust had settled, they'd go back to this discussion, if Dean wanted to, and they'd deal with issues they had.

That had been Sam's plan.

Plans rarely ever work out for the Winchesters as Sam was quickly beginning to realise. This family was built on improvisation and impulse, high octane and pressure, passion.

So as Sam stood there watching his pacing brother, those scared eyes looking terrified, his brother's ruggedly handsome face, aged, tried and exhausted; Sam realised that something was after Dean just as he'd suspected, just as Sam had thought of all along.

The question was what, and then quickly followed by how and then finally why.

Why Dean..?

Everything connected to the yellow eyed demon had always been sent through Sam, everything had been aimed at Sam; yet this time it was aimed solely at Dean.

_...Unless it's nothing to do with the yellow eyed demon..._Sam thought as he begun to retreat back down the steps and onto the beach.

He needed to buy himself some time, any time, as long as it was time away from Dean. Dean needed to calm down, needed to sleep; it was clear that Dean was running on nothing but adrenaline and needed to be taken care of.

Sam was determined to take care of Dean.

But first, the younger Winchester needed a plan...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam stepped through the veranda frame and tip toed around the apartment.

He placed his keys on the stand by the front door and silently observed the living area. It was just after six in the morning and the beautiful tango coloured sky illuminated the living room, filling it with loving warmth that was so desperately missing from both boys lives.

Sighing as he realised that Dean wasn't in the living room or the kitchen, Sam walked silently into Dean's bedroom.

The sight he saw bothered him instantly.

Everything he had rehearsed on his journey, everything he'd planned to ask Dean, to talk about with his brother, simply slipped out his head.

Sam was always stubborn, always allowing his passion, his emotions to ruin his natural logic.

Here again, was one of those situations sitting squarely at Sam's feet.

Sam's heart plunged to his feet as he saw Dean shaking as he remained upright on his bed, his eyes glued to the bedroom window. He was still looking, still trying to be the big brother, still trying to protect Sam.

Yet, it was plainly obvious that Dean was no longer seeing anything, or possibly more importantly, no longer registering anything; if he had been, he would have known that Sam was already back.

Dean was breaking down, and it was a horrendous sight for Sam to see. Not only because it filled him with total sadness, but it absolutely terrified him.

Sam quietly walked over to Dean and sat quietly down on the bed, slightly behind his big brother. Sam studied Dean's profile; he barely recognised his haggard elder brother. Dean's usually handsome face was pale, and tear stained. Sam struggled to get over the look of total devastation that seemed to be permanently plastered on his brother's face.

" Hey..." Sam said in a small voice, trying desperately not to startle the clearly fragile Dean.

Sam noticed that Dean didn't flinch, didn't move, didn't even blink. Whatever was going on inside of Dean's head was consuming him.

" Dean..?" Sam said in a gentle voice, his hand gently now touching Dean's shoulder.

" It's all gone wrong..." Dean whispered as his eyes continued to stare out the window, " Everything has gone wrong..."

" Hey, things will be ok..." Sam said trying to keep the tears out of his own racking voice, his heart hammered in his chest, " We've got through tougher things ok..?"

" I screwed up, that's why he left, I failed, I failed them..." Dean whispered, " All I ever do is screw up..."

" No, Dean, no..." Sam said now coming in front of Dean and stooping down in front of Dean. " You are not a screw up, you've never been a screw up..."

" Then why did dad leave..." Dean whispered his eyes finally tearing away from the window and locking with Sam's, " Then why did he leave us..."

" I don't know, you know what dad's like, he probably got some information and just acted on it.." Sam said thinking up the most rational explanation, " But..-"

" They all just leave..." Dean whispered again, his voice taking on a strange note, " Everyone just leaves me because all I ever do is push people away, I screw up everything I try and do, I'm just a failure..."

" Dean this isn't you, I know you Dean and this, this isn't you.." Sam said feeling his own fear getting the better of him, " Something has got hold of you Doone, something has its claws in you and I don't know what it is, but I need you ok..? I need you to hang on in there and I will fix this, I promise you Dean I will fix this.."

" You left me..." Dean said staring into Sam's hazel eyes. Sam's previous words seemingly oblivious to Dean. " You said you'd never leave, that we were a team, and you left me..."

" I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Dean..." Sam whispered.

" You died and you left me..." Dean said as tears streamed down his face, " Mom's dead, dad might as well be dead, you are, were, all I had, and you left me, what did I do so wrong to make you want to leave..? If you want to go back to college, go back to Stanford, then just go, just don't die, just don't leave like-..."

" Dean, look at me, I'm not going anywhere..." Sam said his hands on both of his brothers, squeezing them as hard as he could hoping he could get into his brother's thoughts.

" I didn't meant to lie to you, but when you came back, Sam...-" Dean said as he watched in horror as Sam clambered to his feet and begun to walk away, " He told me you'd hate me, he told me I couldn't tell you, the more I tried, I couldn't..."

Sam turned and looked slowly at Dean, who was shattered on the bed.

" Sam I don't know what's going on anymore..." Dean said burying his face in his hands, " I just want these feelings to go away, I can't cope with them, I can't sleep, I can't eat, I just feel like screaming my head off..."

Sam came back to the bed where Dean was lying on his side crying his heart out.

" This person who told you all these awful things, where did you see him from..?" Sam said laying on the bed beside Dean, his brother's back to him. " Dean, I need to know how this guy is getting to you..."

" You don't get it Sammy..." Dean said sitting up slowly, his head feeling light, his body exhausted, screaming for sleep and paracetamol.

" Then let me in, let me help you..." Sam said his hand gently cupping Dean's wet face, " We can beat this you and me, together, we can beat this..."

" I'm so sorry Sam, I never meant to hurt you, I swear to god I never meant to hurt you..." Dean whispered as he titled his face against Sam's hand, " Please believe me..." Dean begged.

Sam felt the stray tears slip down his face as he pulled Dean against him and hugged him tightly, " Of course I forgive you, I don't hate you, he was wrong ok, he was completely and utterly wrong. I don't hate you and I'll never hate you..."

Sam closed his eyes as he heard the relief in Dean's cries as his elder brother finally acknowledged what Sam had said.

" Dean, ok, look at me..." Sam said pulling away from Dean and his brother's face gently cupped in his hands, he used his thumbs and gently wiped the tears from his face. " I need you to answer me a question ok..?"

Dean nodded slowly, his body still shaking with sobs, his eyes still filled with uncried tears.

" Where's this he, you keep talking about..?" Sam asked, " Where have you seen him..?"

" I haven't seen him..." Dean whispered, his voice so small and fragile that Sam felt guilty, almost like a bully for pushing Dean the way he was.

" I hear him..." Dean said, his voice almost child like as he forced his eyes to meet Sam's, " He's in my head Sam, I hear him in my head..."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

His hand gently smoothed the top of Dean's hair as he watched Dean's chest move up and down in a steady, peaceful rhythm. It was one thing that had been so rare in the house that Sam had forgotten what Dean looked like when he was sleeping. Yet here he was Sam's big brother finally asleep in his own bed. No chance of the elder Winchester snapping awake and coming to look for Sam, Dean's body wouldn't allow him, he was simply too exhausted.

Three, whole, long weeks.

That was the last time Dean must have slept through the night, and it made Sam shudder at the thought.

Sam's hand gently smoothed Dean's hair as his hazel eyes took in his brother's peaceful features. His handsome face was back for Sam to see, the aged haggard look taking a reprieve as Dean slept, restoring the young man back to his tender age of twenty seven. Well on paper he was twenty seven, but to Sam he was still a kid at heart, one that was burdened with too much responsibility at too young an age, one that had been programmed into obedience as defying it meant punishment; and for Dean punishment was always losing someone he loved.

Sam studied the freckles that were sprinkled effortless and lightly over Dean's nose. Sam often forgot that Dean had those on his face, in fact, Sam couldn't think of a time previously where he'd been this physically close to Dean.

It was a comforting feeling.

Pulling the comforter around Dean, he padded over to the window and pulled the curtains shut, being careful not to break the thick line of salt that he'd placed around Dean's bed. The younger Winchester then silently took Dean's lighter and lit the four light pink pillar candle's and placed them at the four points of Dean's bed.

Apple halves already sat on each side of Dean's bed, with a sage leaf in the middle. Two more were at the window along with another thick line of salt, and just for sheer paranoid reasons, Sam had placed another apple, sage combination at the entrance of Dean's bedroom, once again with another thick line of salt.

Sam had used every protection spell and ritual that he knew from head. With three of them at work at once, he hoped it would buy them both some time; allowing Dean to finally sleep in peace and for Sam to finally start piecing together this horrible nightmare.

Either way, nothing was getting to Dean.

Not without getting through Sam first.

Sam gently and silently eased himself back onto the bed, his eyes trained on Dean making sure he didn't wake him. The lap top was quietly whirling as the hard drives turned in the machine. Sitting up on the bed, his back against the head board, and Dean asleep on his left, he eased the lap top onto his lap and lowered the loaded shot gun down onto the bed on his right.

" Sweet dreams Doone..." Sam whispered as his eyes left his sleeping brother and finally settled on the computer in front of him.

Nothing was getting to Dean.

Nothing was going to break his relationship with his brother, their bond was too strong.

" You evil bastard..." Sam whispered to whoever was out there listening, " Nice try to break us apart, but it won't work. It'll never work..."

Sam's eyes scanned the room methodically.

Nothing moved in the room.

" You chose the wrong family to screw with..." Sam said a smile flickering on his face, " Cause when I find you, and I will find you, I'm gonna kill you, slowly, and painfully..."

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It hovered manically around the Winchester beach house, its entrance to the household now blocked by the irritating younger boy.

Its red eyes glowered in anger, in shock, in outrage.

They were supposed to split up, be broken apart, the boy was supposed to leave long enough for it to consume the elder one.

The elder boy's lies were supposed to destroy them both.

But it didn't.

Someone had lied. The information he'd been given about the Winchester's, about the boys and their relationship, it had all been lies.

Someone was going to pay for their useless information.

Anger seethed through the red-eyed spirit, he was too far into this mess to back out now. Everything was in place, everything was ready. He'd worked too hard to let it all slip away, to allow the powers he'd been promised to simply be taken from him.

All he needed was his sacrificial lamb and the executioner.

Both of them lay in that house, protected under the younger boy's voodoo.

All those powers he'd dreamed off, all those powers that he deserved, that his kind deserved. All those powers that would be released to him as soon as the younger boy was bleed empty by his executioner.

He needed those powers

He needed those boys.

And he needed both of them now...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**And so the plot thickens….don't forget to review, only way I know what you guys think :o)**


	17. One Last Time

**Howdy campers ! This site hates me, it's now five days I've been trying to update ! Ok that aside, firstly want to say a big thank you to those who did review. You guys keep me going with this little story of mine. You can all breathe a sigh of relief, the little rollercoaster is coming to an end soon, so you can all disembark :o)**

**Can't say much about this chapter other than I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Thanks again for sticking by me and my lame updates, you guys are my inspiration.**

**Chapter 17- One Last Time**

Dean's eyes flickered open slowly, and as the small gap in the curtains allowed the sun light to slip through, the elder brother groaned in annoyance.

It was morning already.

Rolling over with a wide yawn, Dean ignored the sledge hammer that was at work in his head, that freaking headache that had been there last night was once again present, in fact lately, this headache felt ever present, omnipresent if at all possible.

Glancing over at the bedside table, two things surprised Dean.

The fact that the alarm clock wasn't showing the time was first thing that made Dean's nose wrinkle, which was then swiftly followed by a tired hand picking up half of an apple, which had proceeded to turn brown from air exposure. Dean studied the limp green leaf sitting in the middle and made a face.

Placing the apple back down on the bedside table, his eyes automatically moved to his wrist, and this time he sat up straight in the bed. His watch had been removed from his wrist.

Shoving the covers off, Dean swung his legs off the bed and suddenly looked down at the combats and t-shirt he'd obviously slept in; he always changed before he went to bed, even when pissed out his head, he still managed to change his clothes. Fair go, it wasn't always the best items of clothing he chose to wear, remembering the time where he'd put on a shirt and tie and clambered into bed with his bottom half naked.

Dean grinned as he stood up, the look on Sam's face that morning when he'd finally staggered from bed. That boy's face had been priceless. In fact, Dean remembered quite a few times he'd end up wearing some of Sam's clothes, which again always led to one of Sam's infamous deadpan looks which he'd seemed to master by the age of three.

Standing up, Dean looked down at the salt that sat around his bed, stepping over the line, his eyes grew a little wide as he spotted two pink candles sitting at the foot of the bed, on closer inspection, Dean discovered two more at the top of the bed, and a couple more weird mouldy apple and limp green leaf combinations around the room.

This had to be Sam's doing.

Heading towards the entrance of his bedroom and ignoring again the salt line and mouldy apple leaf combo, Dean padded into the living room and was surprised to find that he now was the owner of a veranda door, with glass and everything.

Dean scratched his head in confusion.

" Exactly how long was I asleep for..?" Dean muttered as he walked around the living room heading for the veranda's sliding door to inspect the handy work.

It was then his eyes fell on the clock on the wall and his mouth dropped open.

" Holy freaking crap...!" Dean gasped.

It was almost 3pm, even after a heavy night of alcohol and women he'd never stayed in bed this long.

" Hey..?" Sam said his poking around the kitchen, making Dean jump.

" Dude, you scared me, stop sneaking around..!" Dean said sitting down on the sofa, " And exactly what did you do to me, so I didn't even hear the handy man come in here to fix the glass..?"

" Nothing.." Sam said managing a tired smile for Dean, " How are you anyway..?"

" Fine..." Dean said with a funny look on his face, " Shouldn't I be..?"

" No, no of course not, I'm just a little worried that's all.." Sam admitted, " I'm making some lunch, why don't you grab a shower and stuff..."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he studied his overly tall little brother. Dean didn't like worried Sam, or nervous Sam, both reminded him over an over active hen, that was in desperate need to cluck, and Sam loved to cluck over Dean. Dean hated clucking, therefore hated worried and nervous Sam.

" Ok, so how much...?" Dean ventured as he crossed the living room and headed for the small kitchen, which Sam had quietly retreated into.

" How much for food, not a lot.." Sam admitted, " I think it's best if we stay in as much as possible from now on, at least until I can figure out exactly what's going on, it'll be safer..."

" Dude..?" Dean demanded as he finally managed to catch Sam's eyes, " A little help here people..?"

" I just think it'll be safer..." Sam said with a sigh, " You look better, more rested..."

" Man, stop this...!" Dean said slapping Sam in the chest as he stomped around the tiny kitchen, " You sound crazy Sam, who will be safer...?"

Dean paused and suddenly turned on his heel and looked at Sam, " The salt and mouldy apples, and the girly candles..?" Dean questioned, " I get the salt, spirits can't cross it.."

" The apples and the candles were for protection..." Sam explained, " It was quickest thing I could think of..."

" Protection from what..?" Dean demanded, " Sammy what the heck is going on..?"

Sam's eyes narrowed as he folded his arms across his chest.

" What do you remember about last night..?" Sam asked slowly, " And think, and I mean really, really think before you answer..."

Dean opened his mouth to retaliate at Sam but he then paused and saw the clucking look of worry in Sam's face.

" Have a shower and think about it..." Sam said abruptly as he turned back to the salad he was making, " We'll have lunch and then we'll talk about everything.."

Dean nodded numbly and headed back into his room, being careful about where he was treading. He stood there, his hand on his draw and slowly took in the all the salt lines, the still burning candles and the mouldy apple leaf thing.

The amount of protection Sam had used suddenly frightened him.

And it took a lot to frighten Dean...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean stared at his reflection in the mirror, his toothbrush hanging out the side of his mouth, his lips white with toothpaste.

Sighing, he closed the toilet seat and sat down on it, slowly closing his eyes.

Something had rattled his clucking younger brother out there, and the combination of the nervous clucking and the major set of protection mojo that had encircled him as he slept; indicated that something pretty major must have gone down last night.

_...What on earth has happened, I mean Sam's totally wired, making some girly salad, giving me those worried eyes and making some serious clucking noises out there...Maybe I've hit my head and I've forgotten what went down last night..._

On that idea, Dean begun to search his head for new bumps, and lumps. His head felt fine, well as fine as any Winchester head could feel considering there profession.

Sam was looking at him differently, nervously, worriedly, almost as if he didn't want to talk about something, but was obviously desperate for Dean to work it out himself.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

Dean jumped off the toilet seat and went towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle. Yet he froze, he couldn't open it, he couldn't believe he'd forgotten he'd told Sam.

Dean spat the toothpaste out his mouth and rinsed, he turned the shower on, drowning the bathroom in noise, but the elder Winchester sat down again on the toilet.

He couldn't remember everything, just the fact that Sam knew. Sam knew about the lies, about dad and about...

Dean suddenly sat up straight on the seat.

Where did the protection stuff come into play with his confession of being a lying, scumbag..? Dean didn't need protection, what Dean needed was a damn good kicking.

Sitting silently on the toilet, Dean suddenly felt scared, embarrassed and actually felt worried about what Sam was thinking. He couldn't remember all of Sam's reaction last night, but if it was half of what he had imagined it would have been like, it was probably pretty bad.

Maybe Sam was out there not making them lunch but actually poisoning his food, so Sam could watch him die slowly and painfully; the way Dean deserved to die.

Peeling off his clothes, Dean stepped into the shower, the hot water welcoming on his body. He stood under the shower head allowing the water to beat down on his skin, the pulse of the water massaging his aching body.

Sam was supposed to be angry, very angry.

That's what Dean had expected when Sam had found out. He'd expected a pissed off Sam; after all, Sam had every right to be pissed off.

But he wasn't.

Sam wasn't pissed off.

Dean reached for the shower gel and poured some into his hand and stood watching the water as it hit his palm.

Sam was making lunch outside, had seemed concerned about Dean's welfare, his state of mind this morning. Sam had encircled him in protection mojo last night.

Dean knew Sam.

Sam would be pissed at him, very pissed.

Not outside making a salad and telling him to take a shower and think about everything.

Dean watched as the last of the shower gel washed out the palm of his hand.

Dean Winchester was slowly coming to a conclusion that he didn't like one little bit.

That thing out there making lunch.

That wasn't his little brother...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam smiled warmly as he watched as Dean padded out the bathroom quickly and disappear into his bedroom closing the door.

Sam made a face at the door and after a second or so of waiting, headed straight for the closed door.

" Dean..?" Sam called knocking lightly on the door, " You ok..?"

" Sure Sam..." Dean called out, " Out in a second, just changing..."

Sam shrugged, walked away from the door and headed back into the kitchen where he'd been making a salad to go with the fajitas he'd already made.

Opening the fridge, he pulled out the litre bottle of ice-tea that had been cooling and poured into the plastic blue pitcher, which had already been filled with ice and slices of lemon and lime.

This was going to be a nice lunch.

Just two brothers, enjoying something to eat, on a vacation in the sunshine state.

No mention of lies, betrayal, nothing like that.

After all, as Sam had been chanting to himself all morning, this wasn't Dean's fault.

This wasn't Dean's fault.

None of this was Dean's fault.

Something had managed to get into Dean's mind; something was messing with Dean's perception, playing on Dean's most vulnerable weaknesses.

That something was that freaking red eyed spirit thing that Sam had spotted staring at him through the mirror several days ago. He should have trusted his instincts then and there, and not listened to Dean. He shouldn't have gone to the friggin circus which had only managed to reinforce how much he hated clowns; he should have stayed and done the research, started looking into what this spirit was about.

Sam shook his head in annoyance, he should have figured out that something was wrong the moment Dean had decided not to believe him over the attack by the evil looking Dean.

Sam made a face as he balanced two glasses on the tray, he still hadn't quite figured out how he'd seen Dean attack him, but he knew it was connected to whatever was controlling Dean's thinking process, and whatever had been behind him feeling so damn crap the last few days.

No, not crap. Helpless, useless, unable to think clearly, hearing awful thoughts, thoughts he usually just buried to the back of his mind.

Then there was the fever and the stab wound.

In his shock over the confession last night, Sam hadn't found the time to tell Dean what he'd discovered. Not only had his fever vanished, but so had his slash wound.

He'd stood in the shower that very morning and examined where the wound should have been, and there wasn't even a scratch there, let alone a tell tale scar.

It had all vanished.

Conveniently vanished.

Nothing that easy happened to the Winchesters, there was a reason behind everything and by God, with his mind now thinking clearly in the first time in weeks, Sam was damn sure he was gonna figure it out.

Every last friggin piece of the puzzle.

Sam watched as Dean quietly trotted out the bedroom and begun to walk towards him.

First things first.

Protect Dean.

Then kill the evil red eyed spirit...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean felt the knife he'd placed in his jeans pocket cold against his skin. He felt ashamed to actually have a knife on his body for protection against his own brother.

Sam would never hurt him.

But as Dean forced a smile to his face, he was beginning to believe more and more that this wasn't Sam standing in front of him.

He knew Sam, he knew Sam better than he knew himself.

Sam would be spitting mad at him for lying, would have thrown a massive tantrum and be giving him the cold shoulder for at least the next week or so. Then the nit-picking would follow, causing an argument between them every five minutes, and then maybe after a week or so of putting Dean through hell, things would die down and they'd be ok.

That's how Dean knew Sam.

He'd been with Sam from the moment he'd been born, and while he'd wondered off for a few years to Stanford, it was still the same stubborn assed Sam.

That's why Dean knew that this, thing, standing in the kitchen making some cliché salad, sending him unrealistic reassuring smiles, wasn't his baby brother.

It was Sam in every form, the smile, the eyes, the shaggy brown hair, but Dean was convinced that inwardly Sam was probably fighting for his life, trapped inside with this evil spirit.

Dean snuck a look over at Sam who was rooting around in the fridge. He wondered how long the spirit had been inside of Sam, if his little brother was still alive or not.

No his Sam had to be alive.

The question was how to get the spirit out of Sam, without hurting his little brother in the process. Dean knew Sam was still fragile from everything that had taken place in the last few days; but had that all been an act..?

The whole slice and dice with the evil Dean, the fever and the remarkable recovery that had followed. Being led to a hospital that oh so conveniently happened to have Dr. Wallis waiting in the wings.

It just a little too coincidental for Dean.

Dean needed answers, he needed solutions and most importantly he needed help. He felt his stomach churn inside, man, did he wish his father was here instead of half way to wherever the hell it was his old man was going.

He needed John now more than anything.

It was bad enough that he'd been led a merry dance by this spirit, that he'd been manipulated, but now Sam was in grave danger, and Dean didn't know how to save him.

That was a first.

Not knowing what they were up against, not knowing what the lore was to kill the thing, not knowing how strong it was and what it could do, but worst of the lot, not knowing what the hell it was.

There was always a first time for everything; it was sods friggin law that, this, would happen to be one of those friggin firsts.

Dean watched as Sam sent him yet another nervous smile, and hurried past him carrying the tray with drinks and glasses. Watching as Sam shuffled past and disappeared onto the deck, Dean's mouth dropped open.

Sam was walking perfectly fine, not hunched over, or cradling his injured side like he should have done.

Dean hurried outside and he saw Sam look up him at him, clearly startled.

" Dean you shouldn't come out here yet..." Sam insisted, " It's not safe.."

" Well what were you gonna do, leave the door open and I eat on the other side..?" Dean teased forcing a smile to his face.

" That's exactly what I was planning to do..." Sam said pointing back to the inside of the apartment, " Now go wait inside there, while I move the table around..."

" You're gonna need help moving it Sam..." Dean said pointedly as he stood in the hot sunshine, his body aching for the sun light and warmth.

" Dean it's plastic furniture, it's not like it's heavy.." Sam said with a grin, " Now stop stalling, and go and wait inside.."

" It's still heavy, considering you've been stabbed..." Dean said pointedly, as he considered Sam's reaction.

" It's funny you should mention that..." Sam said shielding his eyes from the sun as he raised up to his full height and looked at Dean, " It looks like it's not only the fever I caught a break from, the wounds totally gone..."

" Gone..?" Dean said unable to hide his shock, " As in it's totally healed itself..?"

" No, as in there's not even a scratch, like, well.." Sam whispered as he looked apprehensively at Dean, " It's like it's just been removed..."

" Removed huh..?" Dean said with a dry chuckle, " Sounds, a bit, convenient…"

" That's what I was thinking…" Sam said with an enthusiastic nod, " Anyway, why look a gift horse in the mouth, lets eat…"

Dean watched as Sam begun dragging the table towards the sliding door.

He knew he had to act quick.

" Dude, you don't expect us to drink ice-tea do you..?" Dean said with a snort, " Do I look like I'm cracking forty plus here...?"

Sam paused with the table half turned, he sent his brother a crooked smile, " Weren't you the one who bought it..?"

Dean looked truly horrified, " Don't be stupid Sam, next thing you're gonna tell me is that men and women can be just friends..."

Sam opened his mouth to reply and then shut it back. There was just no point baiting a response from Dean.

" Good, I'll get us some real drinks..." Dean said picking up the pitchers and holding it at arms length like a foul smelling object, Dean disappeared from Sam's sight.

Sam watched as Dean disappeared, his brother's odd behaviour baffling him.

Sometimes, Sam just didn't get his big brother...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester quickly tossed a nervous look behind him, making sure that Sam hadn't followed him in.

Hurriedly, he dumped the contents of the ice tea down the sink and opened the fridge and stood staring at the contents. He looked at the bottles of beer.

As much as he could have done with one, Dean decided against it.

The elder Winchester made a face at his own thought process; things must be getting desperate if he was passing up the opportunity to have a bottle of beer.

But saving Sam, that always came above everything else; beer included.

Grabbing a bottle of soda from the fridge, Dean quickly glanced over towards the open deck, checking to make sure that Sam wasn't coming.

" Sorry Sammy..." Dean whispered as he poured out two glasses of soda. Grabbing the bottle he shoved it back in the fridge and once again he glanced around to make sure Sam was still not inside the apartment.

Silently he opened the cupboard door above his head and took out a tablet container. He stared at the tablets. He knew inwardly that they were doing something to Sam, just what he didn't know.

Sometimes he was convinced that the tablets were saving Sam.

Other times, when the voices stopped talking, he realised that there was a possibility that these were the very things that were making Sam ill.

But he'd lost track of his thinking process days ago.

All Dean Winchester knew was that his little brother should be hating him and he wasn't.

Sam was being kind and understanding and being, well, a great little brother.

That's why Dean knew that Sam wasn't himself that something was messing with them.

Evil had got to Sam.

Dean had failed his little brother.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as the voice thundered through his head.

" **You stood back and watched Sam being taken over by evil. You dropped your guard, and allowed him to be taken. He'll die because of you..."**

" I have to fix this..." Dean whispered as he scrubbed his tired face with his hands, his eyes staring at the container that sat beside the drinks.

" **There is a chance to save him though, you can get the spirit out of him, there's a ritual Dean, all you have to do is find it in the book..."**

Dean raised his head up.

That wasn't a bad plan.

If he could get rid of the thing inside of Sam then Sam would be ok, well he should be, if we wasn't dead that is. But how on earth would he trick that Sam out there to cooperate with him on a freaking exorcism..?

" **You know exactly how to do it Dean..."**

Dean swallowed and closed his eyes. He hated what he was doing god, he hated it. He was betraying Sam again, after everything he had told him last night, promised his little brother, here he was again, betraying him.

Dean's head suddenly snapped up as he stood straight, realisation sending a cold shiver down his spine.

That wasn't Sam he'd been talking to last night. That had to be the evil Sam. That wasn't even his Sam, just an evil, wicked version that had allowed him to pour his heart out, and the person who had needed to hear what was being said wasn't even listening.

Dean's anger grew instantaneously.

He wanted this thing dead.

Now.

Without flinching, Dean glanced around one final time to make sure Sam wasn't coming. Slipping two capsules out of the container, Dean studied them in his palm. Usually he only put one in Sam's stuff and it would knock the kid out for several hours. But if he was going to get this exorcism going, he would need as much time as possible.

Without a second thought, Dean pinched the capsules apart and tapped the white powder into Sam's soda. As always, he tossed the empty capsules down the sink and ran the tap, watching the remnants disappear down the sink hole.

Dean closed his eyes as he took a tea spoon and stirred Sam's soda.

It was done.

Everything was in place...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester's mouth dropped open wide.

He could barely believe what he'd just seen.

He'd knew that Dean was behaving weird, the crack about the ice-tea being for forty year olds, was weak, even for Dean.

Sam sunk into one of the chairs, his head resting in his shaking hands, his breathing sporadic, his heart threatening to hammer out of his chest.

It wasn't the spirit who had been making him sick the whole time.

It had been Dean.

Dean had been the one who'd been poisoning him the whole time...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Just when you think things were looking up for the boys eh..? Hope you're all still enjoying it. If you get a chance please drop me a line….**


	18. Lying in Wait

**Howdy all ! Update time again. Thank you all so much for your reviews, you guys are actually keeping me going with this story…not many chapters to go, just got to sit up ass down now and write them.**

**Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, a lot of reveals in this one, so pay close attention !**

**Again, if you do get a chance please do let me know what you're thinking and if you're still enjoying.**

**On with 'Lying in Wait'….**

**Chapter 18- Lying in Wait**

" Here you go..." Dean said with a smile on his face as he leaned out the sliding door and handed Sam one of the glasses, " Not exactly beer, but you know, it's kicks the hell out of ice-tea..."

Sam stared at the soda in the glass. Part of him could barely even believe what he'd just seen.

The other part of him screamed at himself to act as normal as humanly possible.

" Thanks.." Sam said as he took the glass and placed it front of him on the table. " So ermm, about last night Dean..."

" Can we just forget last night...?" Dean muttered as he awkwardly stood in the doorway, " Dude this is crazy, I'm not sitting inside the house, either we both eat inside, or we eat outside..."

" Fine, you know what, you're right, what was I thinking..?" Sam said with a fake smile, " We'll just eat inside..."

Dean nodded quietly and picked up the salad bowl and the plates and headed back inside the apartment.

Sam watched as Dean disappeared, and without wasting a second, Sam grabbed the glass of soda and tipped half of it into the large umbrella plant that sat on the deck.

Sam stood staring at the plant. He wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting to happen. In fact, Sam was pretty sure if anything had have happened to the plant, he'd have probably died of shock.

" You coming..? Or am I interrupting your conversation with the tree..?" Dean asked, his eye brows raised, as he reached forward and picked up the rest of the dishes and headed back inside.

Sam swallowed, grabbed the fajitas and his drink and followed Dean back inside, firmly closing the sliding door as he did.

Dean watched as Sam placed his soda and the fajitas on the coffee table, and disappeared into the kitchen. The younger Winchester returned carrying the salt drum and an apple.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's workings.

" Dude the foods getting cold..." Dean muttered, unable to comprehend what this Sam

was doing. In fact, Dean was struggling to see the point of pretty much everything that Sam was doing.

Maybe it was a ploy to lure Dean into a false sense of safety.

" Then start eating.." Sam said with a sigh as he cut the apple in half with his knife and begun to place sage leaves in the middle over the pips.

Dean opened his mouth to snap a response when his eyes landed on Sam's glass. It was then the elder brother noticed that half of Sam's drink was gone.

" Thirsty...?" Dean commented on as he pointed to Sam's glass innocently.

" It's like 80 odd outside, of course I'm thirsty..." Sam said with a dry chuckle as he adverted his eyes back to his apples.

Sam couldn't believe that Dean had commented on the glass.

_...He is so never ever living this down for as long as I live..._ Sam thought to himself, although truthfully he knew, that none of this was Dean's fault.

He knew Dean was being manipulated.

That someone else was pulling at Dean's strings and making him see and believe certain things.

What was driving Sam mad was the fact that he, still, had no idea what was doing it. This led to the awful situation that Sam found himself in, having to place stupid apples and sage around the house, lines of thick salt everywhere and fluffy pink candles, which he knew Dean would blow out as soon as his back was turned, because he had no idea what it was he was up against, and because he didn't know what he was hunting, he didn't know how to kill it.

The only thing that he was sure about was the fact that Dean was not possessed. He was showing no symptoms of possession, but manipulation, hell yeah, Dean was showing every trade mark cliché sign of manipulation.

What puzzled Sam was the fact that usually, even Dean would have realised it.

Suddenly Sam's head snapped up and his eyes turned to look at Dean who was hungrily examining the fajitas on the table.

Dean, did, know he was being manipulated.

Well to some degree he knew.

Dean had said as much last night. He'd told Sam that the voice in his head told him all these things.

_...Yeah, must be that same friggin voice telling you to drug me..._Sam realised with an inner sigh.

The situation was going from bad to worse.

Sam needed to buy some time from Dean, time to find out exactly what Dean was going to do once he was drugged. As Sam knelt down in front of the sliding door, he placed the apples on either end.

_...Wait a second, if I've been busy protecting the house, how on earth did it get in to manipulate Dean into drugging my soda..?.._.Sam thought, still on his hands and knees as he fiddled with the apples. He snuck a look at his elder brother.

That question did bother Sam.

He'd been busy busting his ass since his miraculous recovery last night, to try and protect his big brother, and things had been fine, until...

Until Dean had come into the apartment while Sam was on the deck.

" I am such a moron..." Sam muttered to himself in disgust.

Of course that's how the friggin spirit got back to Dean; the elder goof ball of a brother had walked back into the apartment, leaving the sliding door wide open. Sam should have guessed straightaway, after all he'd been busy spying on Dean as he was drugging his drink, with the door wide open.

" You loose a contact down there or something..?" Dean said, his face suddenly appearing in front of Sam's, making the younger stumble back slightly on his knees.

" Huh..?" Sam said his heart racing in his chest as he looked at Dean's face, into his elder brother's eyes. Anything that would help Sam identify this thing that was after his family.

" I said, what are you doing here..?" Dean said standing back up straight, " You're acting weirder than usual, you sure everything is ok..?"

Sam thought about the question.

Should he tell Dean the truth, tell him that he knew that he'd drugged the drink, tell him that it wasn't Dean's fault but they still had to be really careful.

Sam slowly stood up as looked at Dean who had finally sat himself down at the table, unable to resist the food any longer.

No, he couldn't tell Dean, simply because he knew someone was pulling Dean's strings.

Sam made a face at Dean's back as he considered the situation.

Maybe it was time, he, started to manipulate Dean. After all, it could provide the answers he needed, if Dean thought his little plan was working.

Sam just wished he knew what his big brother's plan was.

" Dude, I'm not being held responsible for there being nothing left of this lunch.." Dean said, his voice breaking through into Sam's clogged mind.

" Actually, Dean..." Sam said purposely dropping his voice down to a whisper.

God he hated playing up on his elder brother, but it needed to be done. He needed to see what Dean was up to.

Dean turned in his seat and peered at Sam.

" Problem..?" Dean asked carefully, his hazel green eyes actively taking in Sam's body language. " You feeling ok..?"

Sam swallowed his nerves down. If he did this, he'd had to see it through to the end.

No matter what.

" Actually, I'm not feeling that great.." Sam said forcing a pained look onto his face.

It didn't take much effort; all he had to do was re-think the way he had been feeling the last few days. That instantly made Sam mad, knowing that the way he'd been feeling had all been down to Dean, no wait, not Dean, the spirit, yeah the spirit, the evil red eyed spirit.

Not Dean.

Sam was gonna have to keep reminding himself on that one.

Dean slipped out his seat and trotted over to the sofa where Sam had flopped on to, almost folding in on himself. Dean's heart hammered violently in his chest. He hoped to whoever it was that was listening to him that he hadn't poisoned Sam with an overdose. That would be all he needed. He needed the boy to go to sleep, so he could search the book for the ritual to get the spirit out of Sam.

But Dean had to try and remember that as much as he hated this evil, demonic version of Sam in front of him; it was still his baby brother's body. It was still his Sam. He couldn't physically hurt him, no matter how angry he got.

" I'm just tried, guess everything that's been happening in the last few weeks is just catching up on me.." Sam said with a weak smile as Dean sat on the sofa looking at him with those questioning eyes.

" You feeling sleepy..?" Dean asked, unable to hide the curiosity in his voice.

So that was it, the drugs were supposed to send him to sleep.

Sam nodded promptly, and sent Dean his most innocent smile.

" Think I'm gonna go and lie down, I'm not feeling that great.." Sam said getting slowly to his feet and wondering towards his room.

Dean sat rooted to the sofa, his guilt once again washing over him.

" You need a hand..?" Dean offered glumly, his eyes never rising to meet Sam's.

" No, I think I'll be ok..." Sam said mustering a smile for Dean's sake, " Just make sure you leave me something to eat.."

Dean nodded quietly and watched as Sam disappeared from view...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam walked back into his bedroom and shuddered at the sight of the mess. He'd forgotten about the disaster that had taken place in here a couple nights back.

Sam swallowed as he noticed blood on the inside of his door. His own blood. It wasn't the most comforting thing to be staring at.

Sitting gingerly down on the end of his bed, Sam's mind begun to piece together a plan.

He knew that Dean was drugging him for some particular reason, the question was what..?

Whatever Dean was planning was taking place somewhere between now and the darkness of tonight.

Sam closed his eyes and tried desperately to start thinking of everything he knew about this spirit.

He knew the spirit had red eyes, he knew the spirit had originally come to him, taunting him about taking Dean away from him. Now suddenly Sam never saw the spirit anymore, but knew when it was around, almost like a sick sense.

The younger brother suddenly sat up straight on his bed as a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

Why had the spirit chosen to manipulate Dean..? Why not him..?

And then and answer finally came to Sam.

It was going after Dean, because it couldn't go after Sam.

The spirit knew that its mind manipulation wouldn't work on Sam.

Sam sucked in a worried breath. This meant that this friggin spirit knew about his psychic thing; which meant that somewhere along the line, the yellow eyed freaking demon was involved.

Just how, Sam had no idea.

_...He's the key to you..._

Sam scratched his head, what had the spirit meant by that. What or more like, how was Dean the key to him..?

Sam's head was already pounding, as the questions flew around his confused mind. He needed answers, and fast.

The little brother knew that once the spirit was finished doing whatever the hell it wanted Sam to do, Dean would be dead.

And judging from the state of Dean's confusion in the last few weeks, it was clear to Sam, that Dean was no where near capable of saving himself.

Sam was gonna have to save Dean, whether Dean wanted to be saved or not.

Sam's head suddenly shot up from its lolled position as he heard foot steps approaching his room.

Quickly, he kicked off his sneakers, crawled onto the middle of his bed, and lay on his side, his back to the door.

As soon as Sam heard the door open, he closed his eyes...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean could feel his stomach lurching around inside of him, as he watched as Sam trotted off into his bedroom and quietly close the door behind him.

Dean hated what he was doing, but each time he felt his guilt raining down on him, he simply thought of Sam.

After all, he was doing all this for Sam.

He was saving Sam.

Silently he crossed the room and without another look towards Sam's bedroom, he opened the 'Key of Solomon' and begun to shift through the pages methodically. His fingers automatically turned each page, yet his eyes never read anything, and his brain never registered any content.

His hazel green eyes paused momentarily at the ring on his finger. He'd worn the silly ring for six years and up until the last few days, it had never bugged him. Sam never mentioned the ring; Dean never talked about his brother's gift to him. It had just sat on his finger day in and day out, for the last six years, slowly blending into the person that was Dean Winchester. It was just like the amulet he wore around his neck, when he looked into a mirror; Dean no longer saw the amulet, just like he no longer saw the ring.

Those things were just a part of him, a little kink to Dean that made Dean, Dean.

Yet, lately the ring, this stupid silver worry ring, was holding onto his heart like a millstone around his neck.

Dean frantically drew his eyes away from the ring and returned to the book in front of him.

Page after page he turned, not reading, not stopping, not looking.

Just knowing that he was the only one who could save Sam.

Finally, the elder Winchester froze.

His fingers traced the aged page and his eyes slowly drank the information on the page. Dean didn't enjoy what he was reading, but if this was the only way to save Sam then he'd do it.

Reaching for a near by pad and paper, he begun to write down a list of ingredients he would need for a cleansing ritual. It bothered him to why an exorcism wouldn't work, but he had to trust his instincts.

Dean sighed loudly, as his eyes averted back to Sam's door.

He was going to have to cleanse the spirit out of Sam.

Dean shuddered at the thought. He's never done one before, he'd only ever seen his dad try and do it once to save some poor soul; but it hadn't worked. Dean remembered watching; trying desperately to help, but the innocent boy had bled out before the spirit had left the body. Only once the boy had died had the spirit left. Dean remembered his father taking great pleasure tracking down that evil son of a bitch and wasting it.

Re-reading the page, Dean slowly shook his stuffy head. He didn't remember the ritual his father used being anything like this, in fact it had been totally different. The incisions on the body were the main things that concerned Dean.

One across each wrist and the final one across the abdomen.

The blade was to be made of pure silver and coated from tip to handle in the cleansing potion, as an incantation was read.

Dean re-read the page again.

Surely cuts like that would kill the victim. Not free them of the spirit.

Dean's mind retraced to his father, John; how he wished the elder hunter was here to guide him through this. To show him the right way, how not to screw up again and let Sam die. But he had screwed up, that was the reason why John had left and now because of his failure at being a good brother, he was going to lose Sam also.

Sucking in a nervous breath, Dean ran through the list of ingredients that he would need. He was pretty sure he had every ingredient he would need, except one.

Arrow root.

Re-reading how to make the potion, Dean noted that the arrow root would be the final ingredient to seal the potion.

Dean quickly, and silently went about making the potion, he knew Sam would be unconscious until tonight and for just a few seconds again, pangs of guilt shot around his body.

This wasn't a time to be feeling guilty, it was time for action.

A time for him to make up for everything he'd done in the last few months, for his failures. He would save Sam, if it was the last thing he ever did.

He stood watching the contents boil in the pot, his eyes focused on the flames from the stove.

The older brother didn't even notice the awful smell of the potion.

He had his mind set on a goal and nothing was going to distract him.

Satisfied that the potion had been boiling for long enough, Dean switched off the stove and glanced at the time.

Sam had been asleep about two hours.

It was almost 6pm.

Dean grabbed his wallet and keys from the stand near the front door, and motioned to open it when he paused, his eyes instantly going back to Sam's bedroom.

Placing his keys and wallet back down, Dean noiselessly headed for Sam's bedroom.

His hand on the handle, he realised the door wasn't shut, and quietly, hoping the hinges wouldn't squeak, Dean pushed open the door and in the darkness could see the outline of Sam's body laying in the middle of the bed, his back to him.

Dean sighed inwardly as he watched his sleeping brother.

" Everything is going to be ok now. I'm gonna make everything ok again..." Dean whispered in the perfectly still room.

Quietly, Dean picked up the blanket which was strewn on the floor amongst all the other debris from a few nights back, and covered Sam with it.

His hand hovered just inches away from the back of Sam's head. Dean allowed his finger tips to brush the strands of dark hair ever so slightly.

" I'm sorry Sammy..." Dean whispered to his brother's back, feeling tears burning in his eyes.

Blinking them angrily away, he slipped quietly out of the room again.

Dean wouldn't be wrong, not this time.

He would save Sam; even if it killed him...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester finally allowed the breath he'd been holding to slowly slip out of his body. Either that or he would have passed out from having held it for so long.

Laying still and listening for the sound of the Impala, Sam waited until he heard the engine start and frantically scrambled to his feet, tossing the blanket off him as he went.

That smell.

As soon as it had begun to waft its way into Sam's room, the younger boy had instantly recognised it.

It was poison.

Hurrying into the living room he watched as his big brother pulled out from under the house and watched as he turned left and vanished from view. Sam realised that Dean was heading for the near by town. No doubt he had been missing ingredients.

Satisfied that Dean was gone, Sam snapped the lights in the living room on and begun to scan around for anything that could help him figure out what the hell it was his elder brother was up to.

Sitting in the kitchen, was the 'Key of Solomon'.

Walking over to the open book, Sam's eyes gradually widened when he read the page his big brother had left it open at.

A sacrificial ritual.

Confused and beginning to feel a little nervous, Sam's eyes read the page as fast as it could; the digestion of the information came seconds later.

Sam felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach.

" Who are you sacrificing Dean..?" Sam whispered as he glanced around the kitchen, and paused when he spotted the note pad beside the stove and snatched it up.

On the page was Dean's writing, but what was written at the top of the page didn't make sense.

Dean had written the words 'Cleansing Ritual' and the listed the ingredients needed, but as Sam scanned the list, the younger boy realised that those Dean had wrote down had nothing to do with cleansing at all.

It was lethal poison.

With the note pad in tow, Sam returned to the 'Key of Solomon' and re-read the page and then looked at his brother's writing.

It was like Dean had seen something completely different.

And then it dawned on Sam.

Dean _had_ seen something different. The friggin red eyed spirit was at work again, and no doubt this was what it was after the whole time.

_...He's the key to you..._

Sam chuckled dryly.

Of course Dean was the key to him.

Dean was the only person who Sam would ever allow to get close enough to him, would ever drop his guard around. Dean was the one person that could ever get Sam to do anything that he wasn't keen on doing. Dean was one person in this entire world that Sam struggled to say no to. Dean was the only person who knew what he was feeling and thinking without him ever having to verbalise it. Dean was his big brother; the bond between them was strong enough to withstand anything.

And blood shed between blood brothers at the right time, in the right place, with the right ritual would unleash pretty much anything.

And this spirit had been lying in wait for them the whole freaking time.

The question that sprung to Sam's mind, was why..?

Why pick the Winchesters..?

" What the hell does the spirit get out of having me dead..?" Sam wondered. "Why did it have to be at Dean's hand, with this particular ritual..?"

Those questions had no answers at the moment; all Sam could focus on was the fact that he had to stop Dean from slicing him up like shish kebab.

Why on earth would Dean ever agree to something like this, Sam understood that Dean was being used as a puppet right now, but surely Dean could see what he was doing was wrong.

_...Everything is going to be ok now. I'm gonna make everything ok again..._

Sam felt the colour drain away from his face, his body sunk into one of the stools in the kitchen.

Dean was trying to save him.

At least in Dean's head, his elder brother was trying to save him.

Dean was struggling to tell the difference between what was real and what the spirit was telling him was real. It didn't take a genius for Sam to realise that the spirit had twisted what Dean had read, manipulating Dean to believe that he could save Sam by; cleansing him.

When in reality, the cleansing would poison him, if he hadn't bled out from the wounds first.

Dean was going to kill him.

Sam scrubbed his face in worry, there was too much to do, too much to think about.

The younger boy on the stool sat staring at Dean's hand writing on the note pad. He closed his eyes as he felt tears sting them.

This was never going to be over. Never.

This spirit was never going to let Dean go, even if Sam managed to stop the ritual going ahead, Sam knew when he was beat and this was one of those occasions.

This spirit was psychically connected to Dean. If Sam avoided death tonight, it could happen tomorrow, or the day after, or worse; the spirit could turn around and simply end Dean.

The idea sent a cruel shiver up Sam's back.

The younger boy knew that there was only one true outcome tonight, and that was in both of their deaths.

Sam slowly stood up and sucked in a deep breath.

There was no way he was letting Dean die. Not if there was just a grain of a chance that he could stop it.

And with that thought, Sam grabbed the book and frantically started searching through the pages...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Poor old Sam, he's got to be one tough cookie to try and figure out this mess, and as for Dean, bless is guilt ridden heart; poor boy has his head so screwed up he doesn't know what he's doing. If you get a chance please review :o) See you all next update…**


	19. Kindred

**Welcome guys ! I have to apologise in advance, I've literally just finished writing this chapter, so big sorrys if there are typos everywhere and the grammar is a bit out ! Hope you're all still enjoying the story, there aren't that many chapters left at all, and obviously we're now reaching the climax. Thank you all for your reviews, they do keep me going and spur me along !**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter; I had a ball writing it….on with 'Kindred'…**

Chapter 19- Kindred 

Dean glanced over at the paper bag that sat in the passenger seat.

Usually that was the place where Sammy would sit.

Instead today, today, sat a chuck of arrow root.

Dean chuckled to himself, he had to chuckle cause if he didn't he'd cry.

There was just something that didn't make sense. Everything didn't make sense. The ritual, the cleansing, everything. He knew what he had to do, he had to get the jump on Sam, pin those long limbs somehow, chant a couple words and try not to hit a main artery along the way as he sliced into his brother's flesh.

Into his little brother's flesh.

The image made Dean want to instantly hurl.

How could he have been so stupid not to have noticed that Sam had been taken over by evil, the signs had been there the whole time. Sam's miraculously recovery from the fever, the stab wound that surely would have killed Sam, had conveniently vanished. Dean knew how possessors worked. If the body they chose to hide in was injured or damaged, the evil being would simply heal the body temporarily while they set up home inside their newest meat sack. Once bored with the body they simply left and the injured victim is left once again with their wounds, the spirit no longer keeping them going.

Dean's mind instantly went back to Meg Masters, a young blond that they'd met earlier in the year. They thought she was evil, both boys had thought she was evil. Hell they'd been willing to kill her because of all the things she'd done. Yet it was Bobby who had finally showed them, explained to them that Meg's body was nothing but a shell to the demonic spirit inside of her. In reality Meg Masters was an innocent girl that had just got caught up in the supernatural and had been used as a puppet.

Once the demon had left her body, she'd died. Bobby had been right. They'd talked to her for just a couple minutes desperate for information on their father, all she could do with her dying breath was to express thanks to the Winchesters for setting her body free.

Bobby.

Dean wished he could tell someone, anyone about what was going on, about what he was facing tonight on his own.

The fact that he was going to try and bleed a spirit out of his own brother, by himself, when his own father hasn't been able to pull it off filled the older brother with utmost dread.

What else could Dean do though, Sam was in grave danger and if he chose to do nothing then Sam would continue to be possessed, and...

And what..?

Dean's eyebrows knitted together as a thought occurred to him.

Ok, yes Sam was possessed. But why..? What did the spirit think it would get out of it..? What did the spirit want with Sam..?

Dean's face was set in a thoughtful expression as he considered the situation. It was obvious that the demonic spirit inside his brother was using Sam as a puppet, but best to Dean's memory, Sam hadn't hinted at anything demonic.

" **That's not an excuse Dean. He's simply stalling for time. You must do it. You must do the ritual tonight. It's the only way to save Sam. Unless you want to be a failure again.."**

Dean's heart skipped a beat. He hated these thoughts, these feelings of uselessness. He hated the idea that he was a failure, that he was the reason why his father had left, the real reason why Sam had died.

Dean shook his fluffy head. God the pain and the constant heaviness felt like a really bad dose of the flu.

Dean's weary eyes stared at the empty road ahead, as they filled with unshed tears.

He was so tired.

_...When this is all over, Sam and I are going on vacation..._Dean thought with a chuckle.

He couldn't fail Sam again, he just couldn't...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam, as gingerly as he could, dipped the tweezers into the pot of liquid and carefully removed the scalding bullets.

Sam stared at the four bullets that now sat sizzling quietly on the kitchen counter.

Sam had no idea what he was doing.

Well that wasn't exactly true.

He'd gone through the book and pulled out anything that even hinted towards spirits and how to kill them. He'd then somewhere along the line decided to build his own bullets; sort of.

The younger Winchester had filled a pot with holy water, poured in rock salt, threw in sage leaves, apple pips, lavender oil, tree tea, oil of clove, a block of camfur and anything else he'd been able to find to hand.

By the time it had been boiling for just a few minutes, Sam could barely breathe in the room.

However, he'd gritted his teeth, emptied the bullets from Dean's pearl handled hand gun and dumped them in the pot, which hissed violently as they sunk to the bottom.

Sam had waited, and waited and waited, until he was barely conscious and with shaky, tweezers cladded hands, removed the bullets, which were now sizzling on the counter in front of him.

Which promptly brought the little brother to the predicament he found himself in now.

His hazel eyes locked with his elder brother's potion that sat on the cooker.

He'd fought the urge to dump the entire contents straight down the sink about twenty minutes ago.

But it wouldn't make an ounce of difference.

Sam sighed as he lowered himself into the stool, his eyes now leaving his brother's poison and now settling on the four bullets.

Those little silver bullets had no idea how huge a roll they would play tonight.

They would either save Dean's life, possibly both of there's if luck was on Sam's side; or it would kill both of them.

Sam had already made a decision and the more he thought about it, the less he liked what he was taking on; yet he knew that this was the only way, well that wasn't true either. There were other ways, he could dump the potion down the sink, pack his bags and get the hell away from the demonic puppet which was Dean.

Sam chuckled dryly, he knew he would never run out on Dean, not in a situation like this.

He was going to face his own death tonight, and the only way he was going to survive this was having to beat Dean in a fight. Sam couldn't even think of the last time he'd actually won a fight with Dean, in fact he couldn't remember a time where he'd ever won out against anything physical with Dean.

In Dean's head he was going to fight with every breath in his body to try and subdue Sam and get the incisions in place, while Sam knew that in reality, Dean would be slitting his wrists to bleed him out.

But why..?

That was the question that was destroying Sam the most. It was annoying and agitating that he'd figured out almost everything else apart from the two most important things.

Who or what was this demonic spirit and what the hell did it want..?

Sam ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the stitches in his hair; he was going to lose this fight.

Sam shook his head, he couldn't, he just couldn't, because if he died he knew that Dean would die to; and that simply wasn't an option.

He didn't care if he died, he'd go along with his brother's plan, acting the aloof fool for as long as need be, fight Dean all the way during the ritual, and hope against hope that he could fight Dean off long enough for him to take the spirit out with his homemade bullets.

Sam shook his head at his own stupidity; fight Dean off while trying to stop him slicing into his abdomen and wrists. Yeah that sounded perfectly logically. It was hard enough fighting Dean off when they were play fighting when growing up, almost impossible to kick him off when they were training. Now actually giving Dean a reason to be having a true fight, a real fight in Dean's head, well, even Sam knew when he was beat.

If the situation was anything than what it was, Sam probably would have been flattered to know that Dean actually loved him enough to try and pull this ritual off; but this wasn't a situation to be basking in.

He looked at the pot filled with poison.

In a few hours, if things went to plan, it would be cursing through his veins. He wondered how powerful it would be, how it would feel, he wondered if it would burn or be chilling.

Sam had longed realised that this ritual had to go ahead, at least to a degree, he had to let Dean get a cut in somewhere to get the ritual started, because only then would the evil, demonic son of a bitch show up to see what was happening.

Sam had to see the spirit right there in front of them, he had to see it to make sure it was there and wasn't watching from afar. Sam knew from past experience that the link between puppet and puppeteer was a powerful bond, but if distorted in anyway, if challenged, the more closer the puppeteer, the stronger the connection; and that was what Sam was praying for. The younger brother was banking on trying to break the link himself, how exactly he wasn't sure, but if all else failed, he would beat into Dean as much as he could to just waver him, to doubt the ritual, then the spirit would show up and hopefully, well..

Sam made a face; after that Sam was stuck.

He knew the bullets would be in Dean's gun, he had every intention of loading them in there and putting the gun back when he found it. Dean never left for a hunt of any sort without it, and if Sam knew Dean at all, his big brother would take this along just in case.

Just in case Sammy didn't play nicely and needed to be shot.

The idea made Sam shudder, the thought of Dean being so scared, so far gone, so out of reach that he would resort to shooting Sam if he couldn't save him from whatever Dean was convinced had him.

Sam sighed heavily as his eyes watered suddenly.

He just had a feeling tonight wasn't going to end with a rosy smile.

He looked around the apartment, and nodded at his decision.

This was his home.

And he wouldn't be coming back to it alive.

He'd searched the book himself, every page and he couldn't find it. There was no cure for the poison that Dean had created in their kitchen. But the poison, the ritual, the bleeding all had to go ahead to flush the demonic spirit out.

Even if Sam lost his life in the process.

He knew he was facing death, but if his death simply gave Dean a chance at life, then it was worth it.

All he would then need would be for Dean to snap out of his daze and shoot the bastard if he hadn't been able to do so himself. If scratching, yelling, biting, screaming, punching, fighting, slapping and kicking Dean didn't break the powerful connection, Sam hoped that him dying would be enough to jolt Dean back to reality.

Sam sighed when he considered that thought.

When Dean came out of the trance, the possession, the whatever it was that was controlling him; the guilt Dean would be feeling would be beyond words.

Sam swallowed as he thought about Dean.

He was never going to see Dean again. Not ever. The Dean that would be busy trying to

kill tonight, that wasn't his Dean at all. Sam swallowed the sad thought that came searing into his mind, he wasn't sure now, when he'd last laid eyes on his real Dean. The Dean he'd seen last night had been broken, crumbling and in need of serious guidance and help. Sam felt like a failure for not being able to save the situation earlier on, and now because of his own stupidity, his own lack of self belief, he was would be causing Dean even more pain with his death.

His hands were reaching for the note pad before he'd even realised.

He had to explain this to Dean, had to make him understand that this wasn't his fault, that none of this was Dean's fault. That Dean hadn't killed him that the spirit had.

Sam had been scribbling frantically for almost a minute when the pen rolled out of his hand and clattered nosily onto the counter.

It was then the enormity of what he was doing fully struck home to the younger of the Winchesters.

This was his goodbye to Dean.

His actual good bye to Dean.

The little brother didn't know exactly what was going to happen tonight, or even where it would happen, but he knew that this little note he was writing would be last thing Dean ever got from him.

Sam felt tears burn frantically at his eyes, his mind instantly filling with regrets and missed opportunities over the years to say the words that he wanted Dean to hear, to know, to understand. He could feel tears sliding down his face as the daunting task of what he was going to do tonight ploughed through him.

He was never going to see Dean again, his father again, anything. He would never see Dean playing his mullet rock inside the Impala again, never hear his brother's quirky comments about his choice of coffee beverages again. He would never see his brother smile at him, one of those smiles that lit up Dean's hazel green eyes. He'd never hear Dean tease him about the lack of women in his life. He would never see Dean's overprotective nature in force again, he'd never...

Sam buried his face in his hands as his body racked with sobs.

His hands shakily picked up the pen again, and he watched as his tears dripped onto the page he'd previously been writing on, blurring the blue ink on the page. He couldn't even see out of his eyes to write.

Ripping the page off, Sam Winchester looked down at the clean white sheet of papers, which were already been filled with his tears. He held the pen in his and, and he stared blankly at the paper.

How do you say goodbye to someone you love...?

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean sat in a trance at the stop lights, the lights on red, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head anywhere but on driving.

In a jerked movement, he shoved the indicator on the car and pulled off the road and sat on the shoulder, ignoring the angry horns from behind at his abrupt movements.

The elder brother turned the ignition off and sat dumbfounded in the driver's seat.

If he screwed up tonight, just screwed up a tiny bit; then Sam was dead.

He felt that cold grip seize him again.

He had lied so much to Sam, and his little brother hadn't deserved it. Not once. He'd been so stupid, so totally stupid. Wasting all that time lying and deceiving him instead of taking care of him, getting Sam well, getting him back on his feet. His brother had been seriously injured in a car accident, Dean had been the one to discharge him with the loud warning still ringing in his ears that he could never take of Sam by himself; god how right had Sam's doctor been. That night at the accident, Sam had been completely selfless and saved the lives of the two people he loved most in the world. In the process, Sam had almost killed him. Well almost wasn't the exact truth.

Sam had died.

Sam had actually died.

Dean had stood at the side of Sam's bed watching the trained miracle workers battle in vein to save his little brother. Sam had fought valiantly for days, but the injuries and trauma had just been too much for his young body. The haemorrhage, eventually had caused too much of problem, along with countless other problems Dean hadn't even remembered. Sam's heart had given out, deciding that death would be a better option than staying in this cruel world with Dean.

Dean's heart skipped a beat, and he felt the nausea descending on him.

The flashback of him standing in stunned silence as the nursing staff had walked away as Sam's time of death had been read out; it would haunt Dean forever.

He'd never forget holding Sam's lifeless form in his arms, refusing to accept that Sam was dead. He'd clung to Sam, too afraid to put him down in case someone took him away.

Dean felt tears burn at his eyes.

The gods above, well, Dean figured that would be what Sam would think, Dean on the other hand wasn't sure who was responsible for bringing Sam back; but deep down, Dean knew that it had been Sam's time to move on and somehow Sammy had cheated death; not that Dean was complaining.

Dean had watched Sam sleep that night, and had made so many promises to the sleeping form, some whispered to the sleeping boy, some engraved in Dean's consciousness forever.

Dean had promised to never let Sam out of his sight again.

Dean had promised that he'd take better care of Sam.

Dean had promised that somehow, and he wasn't exactly sure on the whole how part, that he would be able to show Sam how much he cared about him.

_...Bang up plan with that Dean..._The elder brother thought miserably..._The boy's been possessed and tonight you're gonna try and bleed a demon out of him; way to take care of him, way to show him how much you care..._

Dean felt the tears beginning to roll down his face.

The situation that was facing him tonight suddenly dawned on him like a slap in the face. If he really did make one move wrong, he could kill Sam.

Someone had given him back his brother and if he wasn't careful, Sam would die at his own hands tonight.

The thought of Sam dying filled Dean with utter dread.

The thought of Sam dying because of something he did; that was a thought that Dean Winchester didn't even want to consider...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The spirit watched the Winchester home through enraged crimson eyes.

The youngest boy had lied, had fooled the elder one.

The spirit fumed as it unsuccessfully tried to enter the beach side home; it cursed furiously as the youngest boys voodoo continued to block its path.

That boy was really beginning to piss him off now.

Angrily it watched as the young man walked around the apartment, his eyes unusual to what the spirit was used to seeing.

The boy looked as if the light that always shone so brightly from him had been drained from his very soul.

A smile flickered on the spirit's face.

Irony was a funny thing.

Cause tonight, not only the light, but the boys very life would be drained away.

A smile danced on its twisted face again.

It was time to get the game started...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean hadn't been driving for very long, he'd managed to steady himself enough to pull back onto the road, suck in his nerves and refocus his fuzzy mind on the task at hand.

He would save Sam.

He didn't care what it took, how he had to do it; but he knew the end result.

Dean forced himself to imagine them both in a weeks time, sitting in Florida, supping up some beers on the beach, heck, maybe he'd actually let Sam take off to 'Seaworld' to see the penguins; after all, he did like penguins.

A smile flickered to his face. A natural one. Dean couldn't remember having actually just smiled for the heck of it in ages, but the thought of going to 'Seaworld', with his younger brother had brought an instant smile to his face.

For all the faults that Sam had, his stubborn attitude, his awkwardness, his sense of moral that always drove Dean mad, his 'try to always do the right thing by the law' persona that often made Dean want to strangle him, his naiveté at the evil things in life, his continuing questioning of everything they did, his stubbornness...ohhhh, Sam and his stubbornness, and that pout. That puppy-eyed pout thing that Sam had mastered by the age of two, the way he said the word 'please' that always had you giving into him, and then kicking yourself ten seconds later.

Did Dean already think of stubbornness..? Yeah Sam was one stubborn son of a bitch when he wanted to be.

It was also one of the things that Dean secretly loved about him.

That along with Sam's ability to just be gentle, the way his kindness had a way of drowning you, his love had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world to him; Dean could never fault Sam on that. Not ever.

He loved Sam's ability to see a future, always planning, always trying to get his dysfunctional family to do normal things, like have meals together, cooking, heck, even laundry Sam used to turn into a game.

Sam had this innocence to him that Dean adored and whether Dean wanted to secretly accept it or acknowledge it, he loved the fact that Sam made it no secret that Dean was his hero, that he loved, respected and would listen to Dean like a kid for the rest of his life.

Yes they argued about almost every freaking decision, but usually, unless Sam felt incredibly strong about the subject, Sam usually always went with Dean. He allowed Dean to take lead.

Sam loved his elder brother, loved him so much.

Dean knew it and it made tears spring to his eyes, as he suddenly wondered if Sam knew how much he cared for him. His mind instantly went back to the accident, those nights at the hospital where he'd whisper to the comatose Sam that he loved him more than anything, and as soon as he would wake up, Dean promised to tell Sam how much he loved him to his face, perhaps even throw in a hug.

Yet that had been almost three weeks ago and Dean hadn't told Sam once.

He'd hugged him, but never without one of them near border hysteria.

And then...

Dean's head suddenly snapped up, his eyes wide as a face loamed in the windscreen. His foot slammed violently on the brake, his heart racing uncontrollably as cars honked and served to avoid the Impala that sat stunted in the middle of the road.

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

" Peek-a-boo, I see you..." Sam's voice sang as his face hovered in the windscreen, Dean's eyes locked on his little brother.

" Sam...?" Dean whispered, his brother's face illuminated because of the headlight.

" Help..." Sam's voice whispered, the figure growing faint in the light, " Help me, please..."

Before Dean could even respond to his brother's plea, Sam's ghostly figure vanished.

" Sammy...!?" Dean shouted his eyes frantically searching the street.

" **Save him Dean, you have to save him now..."**

Dean threw the car into drive and with new determination, headed for home...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam's hands gingerly placed the letter onto of the coffee table. He hoped Dean would find it if things went wrong. Lord knows it had taken him longer to write it than he thought it would.

The younger boy shivered involuntary, as he pulled his brown hooded sweater on and zipped the top up.

Sam wasn't sure what to do; he'd already switched the lights off in the house and was awaiting his elder brother's arrival home, and he'd replaced Dean's gun back to it's normal home. But then what..? Sit him down and tell him we needed to talk, that we had a situation that needed to be discussed, that he knew all about the drugging and evil voices, and the rituals..?

Sam snorted out loud at the thought of that conversation.

Hell, that ship had sailed a long time ago.

If Sam had wanted to talk, he should have confronted Dean as soon as he'd watched like an idiot from the deck, his elder brother drugging his soda. He should have come out his bedroom right in the middle of Dean making the poison and confronted him then and there.

" The gift of hindsight eh..?" Sam muttered to himself as he nervously looked around the dark apartment.

Sighing, Sam finally was defeated and had to agree with the warning voice that had been screaming at him for the last ten minutes.

He needed a gun, he needed anything to hand. He needed a weapon that he could hurt Dean with but not kill him.

Sam made a face at that thought, of course because it's totally normal that people walk around with weapons simply to mame people with, and not to kill them.

But the idea of hurting Dean, of actually purposely doing it made him sick; at least Dean had the excuse of being under the influence of evil. What the hell was Sam's excuse..?

_...Trying to keep us both alive..._Sam thought to himself as he walked towards the sliding door that would take him out onto the veranda.

He jumped when he heard the front door burst open in the darkness.

And after that, everything just happened faster than Sam expected.

He barely got his arm down to protect his stomach when Sam caught Dean's wild eyes reflecting in the moon lit room.

" Dean, wa..-" Sam gasped, as he almost completed the sentence, but the noise of something being ripped from the wall distracted him.

" It's over..." Dean hissed in a tone Sam had never heard before, as the elder brother brought down the weapon he had in his hands right along the back of Sam's head.

Sam's mind exploded into a violent array of colours as he felt his body hit the floor hard.

He could feel Dean standing over him, his brother's foot nudging him to make sure he was out of it.

" This ends, now..." Dean whispered in a voice so cold that Sam hurriedly accepted the darkness that welcomed him with warm arms.

The younger brother just prayed it wasn't the last words he'd ever hear Dean say to him...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Hope you guys are still enjoying, looks like Sam is in huge freaking trouble. Don't forget to leave me a little review if you can ! Thanks for reading and see you all next update ! Xxxx**


	20. Blood to Blood

**Yeah I know, my update is really REALLY late, but I blame this chapter. It was the perfect scene in my head but a total and utter b!tch to actually write LOL. Either way, it's done now, and I seriously hope I've done justice to the scene that has been going around my head for months now.**

**Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter, I'm glad you all enjoyed the brotherly angst and their perspectives on each other.**

**I think now will be a good time to say that this is the second story in a set of three..so yes for all those math geniuses out there, there is a final part to this story. So while this story will wrap up, the aftermath and consequences will play itself out in the final story of this trilogy called 'Catch 22', I sincerely hope you guys will enjoy it.**

**So with all that said, I hope you enjoy the story and the remaining couple chapters.**

**On with 'Blood to Blood'…**

**Chapter 20- Blood to Blood**

Sam Winchester's eyes slowly opened, and then flickered shut a second later. He could feel his hair being blown gently around on his head, the warm breeze dancing on his face.

Or at least half his face.

It was then Sam realised that he was lying on his side, and then more worryingly he couldn't move his hands, which seemed determined at the moment to stay behind his back.

The younger brother tried to open his eyes again, but couldn't, the pain in his head, the aching dull throbbing that battered in his skull. Opening his eyes just didn't seem worth it, the darkness of unconsciousness seemed a hell of a nicer place.

And then there was the singing.

And that made Sam force his eyes open again. Sam would know that voice anywhere, but the idea of him singing, was a shocker even for Sam to swallow.

So the younger of the Winchester's slowly forced his eyes open, gave himself a few seconds for his blurred vision to adjust and slowly, he begun to identify exactly where he was.

It's just where he was exactly that didn't make a whole heap of sense.

With his feet loose, but his arms tied, Sam was lying on his side in what he could have sworn was a truck. An open ended, uncovered truck, and from the smell of it, it was a summer fruit truck. He could swear he could smell plums.

Then the signing begun again, and this time, against his better judgement, he raised his head in the direction of the cab and could see the back of his brother's head, bobbing along and singing loudly with the tune that was screaming from the radio.

The fact that Dean was singing loudly along with a 'Dolly Partan' track, was just more stone cold evidence that Dean was definitely possessed, or at least, just not quite himself.

Wriggling around as subtly as he could along the metal truck, Sam cursed as his almost numb fingers tried to feel along his back to see if his small pocket knife was still on his body. He almost did laugh out loud when he chuckled at his own stupidity of even considering the idea that Dean would have even left a knife in his possession.

He couldn't raise his head to see where he was going, he couldn't move too much or his brother would notice, but where he exactly was going was really beginning to heighten Sam's curiosity.

He had to think and think quick.

Ok, so he hadn't known exactly what he was going to do when Dean had returned from his errand to collect his arrow root, but being knocked out like a moron and thrust up like a thanksgiving turkey in the back of a truck hadn't exactly ranked high on Sam's to-do list; yet here he was, lying on his side waiting for his execution.

Man, were there lives totally deranged.

Sam's thoughts instantly came to a jagged stop and his breathing hitched in his chest. The truck was slowing down, which meant that Dean was slowing down and whether Sam wanted it or not, he needed a plan, now.

Lying perfectly still, he felt the truck come to an unsteady stop, the radio abruptly cut off as the engine died, and the cab door frantically open.

Dean was humming, loudly, almost to the point of singing.

Sam could recognise that tune anywhere, after all having it drummed into your head since you could remember had its benefits, but he also recognised the significance behind the tune.

Dean was humming 'Metalica', which confirmed to Sam that Dean was nervous.

Bizarrely, it gave the younger, hope that if Dean was nervous, that meant that there was something inside of him that had him nervous, had him unsure, and had him thinking that what he doing was wrong.

On the other hand, was it such a comforting thought knowing that he would have to allow Dean to actually slice into his flesh, knowing his elder brother was so nervous? Knowing Dean he'd probably end up cutting an artery.

And that, that would just be peachy.

Sam sucked in a deep breath and waited.

It was all about to kick off...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester strode towards the back of the truck, his humming slowly beginning to get on his own nerves. His hands were steady, ready, willing now to do whatever it was would take to get the job done.

His nerves were steely, his heart beating steady.

He was ready for anything.

Yanking the chain off the lock, he dropped the gate open and looked at Sam's body that lay in the middle of truck.

He didn't even remember how he'd managed to get Sam's into the truck.

His hazel green eyes took in the scene, his face becoming stronger and ridged as he climbed into the back of the truck to pull Sam forward.

" Now come on Sammy..." Dean muttered, as he reached down for Sam's ankle to pull forward.

However, what happened next, even Dean didn't expect...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam waited, and waited, and waited and waited.

_...Come on, come on, come on..._Sam chanted to himself as he could feel Dean's shadow over his body, he could hear Dean talking to him, and all Sam could do was wait.

Dean's hand brushed down over his ankle, and that's when the younger boy finally struck.

As hard as the younger brother could, Sam lashed out at Dean kicking him as hard as he could in the stomach. The blow alone sent Dean flying off the back of truck. Sam scrambled to his feet in the truck, trying to gain his balance with no hands, just in time to see Dean hit the ground with a resounding thud, the wind clearly knocked out of him.

Not wasting a second, Sam jumped out the truck and ran in the first direction his eyes laid on.

He had absolutely no idea where he was.

Running frantically as fast as he could, his eyes never daring to look behind his shoulder, Sam sprinted and suddenly recognised where he was; he was on the bluffs.

As he raced along the top of the cliffs, his eyes darted down towards the beach, the open water crashing in the distance against the rocks down below, the pier dazzling ahead in the moonlight.

Moonlight however couldn't guide Sam fast enough as his feet continued to try and put as much distance between Dean and himself, his hands frantically tried to work their way out of the ropes.

Suddenly everything came crashing down around him...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean grunted loudly as his body tackled Sam in mid air; bring them both down to the floor with a resounding bang. He groaned inwardly knowing that had to have hurt Sam, after all the kid had no way of blocking the fall, his hands were bound.

Dean clambered off Sam and angrily threw his brother onto his back, who was hastily trying to wriggle free from Dean's grasp. Dean, who was kneeling, stubbornly grabbed at Sam's bound arms and without even casting Sam another look, slashed through the ropes, freeing his little brother's hands.

Sam instantly shoved his elder brother off as hard as he could and turned to run. Instead, Dean dived on him and angrily punched him in the face, his hands holding into Sam's mess of dark brown hair.

" Dean, please, please look at me..." Sam begged as Dean could feel Sam straining to get away, as he straddled over his brother's chest, his knees on either side of him, forcing the younger hunter to keep still.

Sam however wasn't giving up, and squirmed and bucked as much as he could to try and break free.

" Stop it, stop it right now !" Dean shouted, his hands still tangled with his brother's hair as he viciously lost his temper and drove Sam's head into the ground.

Although he didn't lose consciousness, Sam felt an explosion takes place in the back of his skull.

" Looks at me Dean, it's me, Sam..." Sam pleaded as Dean wrestled frantically with the long arms that tried to keep him at bay, but he fought them with every move he knew.

" He's lying Dean, he's lying, you have to trust me, Dean please, you got to know this is wrong, this is what he wants you to do...!"

Dean's face twisted into a snarl, as he pinned Sam's left arm to the ground, the free right arm smashing frantically into his body, head, and face. He could feel Sam scratching at his skin, pulling at his face, his ears, yanking violently at his short hair.

" Dean...!" Sam screamed as he watched as his elder brother wrestled with him, tears burning at his eyes, " Please, listen to me, you know me, you know who I am, you know everything about me, you've got to know who I am..."

Dean's eyes darkened as he stared into tear filled eyes, his face slowly lowering to the boy who was frantically trying to twist free.

" Get the hell out of my brother..." Dean growled as he reached into his back and pulled his hunting knife out. The elder hunter watched the boys eyes grow wide.

" Oh god no.." Sam whispered as he voice chocked in his throat. He couldn't even see Dean anymore; the coldness in his elder brother's voice seemed so foreign, his hatred for what he was trying to kill was so adamant.

Sam closed his eyes for a few seconds, but to him it felt like a life time. He was in way over his head, he was stupid to ever think that he could have saved them, to even consider that he was better than Dean, that he could have pulled this off.

" Blood to blood I call to thee..." Dean whispered as, " Blood to Blood, release to me..."

" DEAN..!!" Sam screamed as his voice tore through the air, his eyes focused solely on the knife as he dragged his hand away from Dean's grasp, only to have it shoved violently back down to the ground. Dean drove his knee into Sam's upper arm as he used his weight as leverage over the rest of Sam's body, his free hand now taking the task to pin the flapping wrist down.

The knife slipped into Sam's exposed skin, just missing his wrist but slicing just above it.

Sam's breath hitched as his wide hazel eyes stared at his brother Dean who was pushing the knife into his pale skin.

Both Winchester's stared at the crimson colour that ran free from the arm that was still pinned to the ground.

Sam, drove his free right hand straight into the side of Dean's head, and just as Sam had been pleading inwardly, it knocked Dean off balance momentarily.

Seizing his chance Sam scrambled to his knees, seconds away from standing when he could already hear Dean clambering back to his feet.

Sam raised his head which hung limply and his vision shot out of range. Still, he crawled a few inches away, only to land flat on his stomach when his feet were removed from under him.

" You son of a bitch..!" Dean angrily hissed as he drove his fist into Sam's face, flooring the younger boy. Dean wrestled Sam still, his hand frantically searching behind him for his knife.

It was time for the second incision.

Sam's eyes fell on the blade, it was then he understood why his co-ordination was anything but useful. His brother's stainless steel tipped blade, was an odd brown colour.

Sam swallowed as he heard Dean's voice start talking again. Dean had soaked the blade in the poison; every cut Dean made was already mixing the poison with his blood.

It was a good plan, Sam expected no better from Dean. It just sucked that it was Sam that Dean was using his hunting skills on.

Sam's mind begun to try and consider the situation that was in front of him; there was no point in fighting, he had to calm down, he had to calm down right now. The poison was already in his system, there was no way of fighting it.

Sam's time was up, but Dean's wasn't.

He could still save Dean.

" Dean..." Sam whispered, hoping that dropping his voice would make Dean look at him; actually look at him. " You've done your best, you've always done your best. All the times dad took off and left you to take charge and take care of me, you never complained once; even when I was being a brat..."

" Nice try asshole.." Dean muttered as he pinned Sam's right hand down. Dean almost felt his own breath hitch when he shoved the blade into Sam's arm and pulled it back, watching as the skin opened, the blood making pretty red streaks along Sam's pale arm.

" Whatever happens Dean, I won't blame you, I know why you're doing this.." Sam continued to say, " You're not yourself, you are not to blame, this is not your fault..."

Dean stared angrily at the face before him, but the anger was slipping quicker than Dean had imagined.

Where was the bitching..? Where was the cocky, arrogant attitude that spirits always carried..? Where were the mind games..? Where was the evil son of a bitch telling him that he was a failure..? That everything since the crash had been his fault..? That taking Sam from the hospital without him being ready was possibly the stupidest thing he'd ever done in his life..? That lying to Sam was the dumbest thing he'd ever done. That

being such a disappointment as a son had made his father leave and not even stop to consider what he was leaving behind.

Sam stared into Dean's hazel green eyes, which were wide, trapped and vacant. Dean's hands were still over his right hand, and Sam hoped that something inside of his elder brother was hitting home.

" Dean, look at me, it's gonna be ok, you and me, we're gonna go home and we're gonna grab a couple beers and we're gonna put this whole thing behind us..." Sam said his voice soft, soothing.

Dean stared slowly at Sam, and Sam's heart somersaulted into his mouth.

He couldn't believe it; he was actually getting through to Dean.

If his brother wasn't literally sitting on top of him, he'd have probably jumped for joy.

A small smile played on Dean's face and Sam felt himself smile back.

Dean stared at Sam.

" Do I really, look, that, stupid..." Dean growled out. " Get, the hell out of my brother..."

_...Uh-oh..._Sam thought_...This can not be good..._

Hovering just behind Dean, stood the red eyed spirit.

" You leave him alone, you get the hell away from him...!" Sam shouted at the red eyed mass of nothing, which continued to growl and shimmer.

" You're in no place to argue Sam..." The spirit said with an eeriness that made Sam's hair stand up on end. " It's nothing personal, business is business..."

Sam's eyes widened as he watched as the spirit came and hovered by Dean's shoulder. Dean Winchester was removed mentally from the situation, as he continued to recite the incantation over and over again, oblivious to the spirit that literally sat shoulder to shoulder with him.

Sam was sure if his eyes got any wider, they'd launch straight out their sockets.

" Finish it..." The spirit whispered to Dean.

" You touch him, I swear to god you lay one hand on him.." Sam shouted, his voice defying the fear that coursed through his veins.

" Finish it now.." The spirit snarled.

" Dean..!" Sam screamed at his elder brother as he watched as Dean's eyes glazed blankly, an expression that Sam had become used to seeing in the last few days, but had simply put it down to Dean being tired.

" The evil wills that dwells at night, in the darkest hour before first light..." Dean recited from memory. Without even lifting Sam's t-shirt, Dean forced the blade flat against his brother's hip bone and begun to drag it along his skin, the pressure increasing.

The pain made Sam gasp in shock.

" No, no, no, no, no..." Sam cried loudly as his hands groped frantically for anything to hand. Dean could not finish this ritual, he could not, and the pain, god the pain that cursed through Sam's entire body as his blood soaked hands fumbled for anything.

He looked as his eyes spotted the rocks that were lying haphazardly all over the cliff, if he could just reach one, just grab one.

Stretching, reaching, pulling, and straining against the pressure in his chest from Dean's weight, from the pain in his arms, from the poison that cursed through his dying form, to the final fleeting pain of Dean dragging his hunting blade against his stomach.

" Blood to bloo...-" Dean chanted.

The rock smashed into the side of Dean's head with a sickening thud, and slowly slid from Sam's shaking hand.

The little brother shoved Dean off him and slowly looked at Dean's unconscious body. He hadn't wanted to hurt him, this wasn't Dean's fault. Unable to stop himself from shaking, Sam's hands searched on Dean's neck for a pulse. It took a while, for Sam to be able to figure out whose pulse was beating louder, his or Dean's.

Thankfully, Dean's pulse seemed to be beating steadily.

" Oh thank god..." Sam said as his hand slowly dropped from the side of Dean's neck, his blood stained hand leaving an ugly paw print in the crock of Dean's neck.

Sam's body was beat to hell, everything hurt, but yet he knew he had to keep going.

If not for himself, then for Dean.

Sam's hazel eyes glanced around the cliff top, his eyes trying to find the red eyed bastard that had been tormenting his and his brother's life for the last week or so.

But it was no where to be seen.

Glancing back at Dean's unconscious body, he begun to messily pad his brother's body down looking for the gun, leaving bloody prints everywhere he touched. It was then Sam paused momentarily and looked at the wounds that were still streaming red blood, Winchester blood from his skin. His right arm was cut badly, but his left was worse, that cut was deep, really deep. Sam tried to block that look that had been on Dean's face when he'd pushed that blade in.

The younger boy struggled to his feet and managed to turn towards the direction of the truck. He was surprised that he could still see it, considering he'd been convinced that he'd run miles away from the thing; of course that was probably just wishful thinking on Sam's behalf.

With a glance at Dean, Sam started painfully slowly towards the truck.

" You wait there Doone, I'll be right back..." Sam whispered, unable to ignore the shaking in his own voice. He couldn't help but wonder with every step he took if it would be his last. He had no idea how fast the poison would react in his system, plus he had no idea if the way he was feeling was down to having been beaten down by Dean and a demonic red eyed spirit for the last week or so, or if it actually was the poison beginning to kick in.

Sam felt his tired feet beginning to rebel against his commands to walk, he was struggling with just general thought processing and was grateful when he spotted the notorious fruit truck sitting on its own. Opening the drivers side, just as Sam had suspected, Dean had left the gun on the drivers seat.

So not a stunt his brother would do when actually thinking straight.

Sighing inwardly, Sam snatched the gun from the seat and slowly turned back towards where his unconscious brother lay. Sam had barely caught his breath when he was lifted high into air and thrown along the ground.

Sam could feel the burning sensations in his arm as the grit and dirt from the cliff top buried themselves into his open wounds as he was dragged by the invisible force that held him captured.

Well not that invisible.

Sam raised his head and found his eyes staring into the red abyss, the very same eyes that had found him that night in the bathroom.

" You're a real pain is the ass you know that...?" The spirit growled, " You just don't know when to give up.."

" Sorry, it's not a word that often comes up in my vocabulary.." Sam muttered, as he forced himself up slowly with his hands.

The red eyed swarm yanked him by his hair into a taller position, no hands, just the feeling. The sensations of ice trickled down his back, making his blood tremble within him.

" Wake, him, up..." The spirit snarled, as his eyes bore into Sam, the strange black mist glancing over towards Dean's perfectly still figure.

Sam laughed dryly.

" Not a chance in hell..." Sam growled, " You do your own dirty work..."

" You think I need him to kill you..?" The spirit snarled, " You think I can't do it myself.."

" If you could, you would have already..." Sam hissed, " Now back off..."

" Back off..? Who, you..?" The spirit whispered into Sam's ear," Why would I do a dumb thing like that, you think I kept you alive for this long for me not to get what my kind needs..."

Sam yanked his hair free from the grip, strands falling from his head as they hung limply in the air. The spirit stayed exactly where it was, as Sam scrambled over on his hands and knees towards Dean.

" What your kind needs..? I'll sure as hell tell you what your kind will get..." Sam snarled as he snapped the safety off and raised the gun towards the spirit.

" Is that your big plan Sam..?" The spirit smiled, " To shoot me..?"

" It beats the hell out of yours..." Sam said as he held the gun steady, and raised the gun towards the spirits eyes.

" He'll be dead before you even fire that gun..." The spirit said simply, " Don't you understand Sam, don't you get it..? I'm inside of him, in his head, he'll do whatever the hell it is I ask him to do, and you know what's really sad, is that he even knows that it's wrong. He knows everything he's done to you was the wrong thing, but you know what, he still did it..."

" Shut up..." Sam snarled, as his finger tightened around the trigger.

_...FIRE... _Sam's mind screamed at him_...FIRE..._

But he couldn't.

" Leave him alone..." Sam whispered, " Please, just leave Dean alone..."

" Dean's so consumed with guilt, and hurt and pain..." The spirit whispered as he hovered towards Sam, who protectively, dragged himself in front of Dean's unconscious form.

" He'll die like that Sam, feeling like that, the guilt eating him alive every single day..." The demonic spirit explained, " He was like a homing beacon, so welcoming, so for filling..."

" Tell me what you want, and I'll do it, I'll give it to you, just let him go, just let him walk away.." Sam begged, " Please, I'm begging you, I'll give you what you want.."

So much for plans.

Sam had talked himself into going through with this whole night, going along with the plan to try and kill this spirit, had allowed Dean to slice him like a bad kebab just to get this evil son of a bitch to show its face.

But bargaining with the bastard, that hadn't been in Sam's plans. He knew it was foolish, after all, heck, it was evil he was bargaining with, but he was sure he had to do something. This thing had no intentions of ever letting Dean go.

So maybe trading himself in exchange for Dean's freedom might buy his elder brother enough time to get better, get stronger and get the hell away from here.

The red eyed spirit hovered menacingly over the Winchester's. Sam's hazel eyes never left the red eyes spirit, but his blood slicked hand held the gun level, his other hand protectively on Dean's hip.

" Ok..." The spirit finally said its voice horse and dry. " This is what I want..."

Sam sucked in his breath.

The gun flew from his hand and landed a few feet away, his frantic hazel eyes straining to find it. His body was picked up from the ground and hurdled away from Dean, as the younger boy crashed heavily a couple of feet in front of the fruit truck.

" I want you both dead...!!" The spirit screamed, as Sam struggled violently to push himself up with his hands, the trauma on his body was becoming too much. His vision swam desperately out of focus as he tried to find Dean.

His eyes scanned where he was sure Dean had been lying, but there was nothing there.

The world was beginning to fade to a dirty shade of black.

" Did you really think that I would let him go...?" The demonic spirit snarled, as Sam felt the pressure in his neck grow, his body slowly being picked up the floor. " Did you honestly think, that I would be stupid enough as to let you go..? You don't even know what you both have, the gifts that run through your veins. You don't deserve it. You stupid little boy, you will never ever understand the power you have..."

" Bite me..." Sam managed to choke out, his hazel eyes picking up something in the distance. " I hope your back up plan works out better than your first one..."

The spirit dropped Sam in a heap on the floor and whirled around to be met with a shaken figure crawling towards the gun.

" No...!" The red eyed spirit screamed, " Dean no, you don't want to do this..."

" Shoot..!!" Sam screamed at his elder brother, as he watched as the spirits eyes glowered red. Sam instantly realised what it was about to do.

Struggling to his feet, Sam threw himself at the red mass, and found his body entangled amongst the red mist.

" You stupid, stupid boy...!!" The spirit screamed as the black mass dissolved around Sam's body and reformed inches away in front of a gasping Sam.

" Don't you get it..? You kill me, and it'll be the biggest mistake of your life.."

The force of the blow that was levelled at Sam, the younger boy certainly hadn't expected. As his body collided heavily into the door of the fruit truck, Sam's world vanished into an inky darkness...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean Winchester's hazel green eyes flickered open slowly.

God, who had invited the friggin marching band around...?

His head was as heavy as lead, but the noise, man, didn't people know how to keep it down.

And why the hell was his bed so uncomfortable..?

Forcing the fog from his eyes, the elder brother pushed himself into a sitting position, and his eyes instantly grew wide.

Either his bedroom was in need of a visit from the 'Extreme Makeover' team, or he wasn't in his room.

" What the hell...?" Dean said as he looked around in the darkness, and was about to call the automatic response when his eyes settled with great alarm at a fight that was taking place several feet in front of him.

Sam was tangling madly with some black, red eyed...

And then everything smacked Dean straight in his face.

His legs were already struggling to stand, as his eyes never left the fight that was taking place. His hazel eyes spotted his gun lying on the floor.

His hands gingerly picked it up.

" Shoot...!!" Came Sam's scream from the distance.

Dean looked into those hope filled eyes. They were pinning everything on him.

" **Don't do it Dean..." **

There it was again.

That damn voice.

But it was different this time.

The voice he'd been hearing all this time, it suddenly had a face.

And it was that face that had his little brother strung up like a piñata.

He watched helplessly as Sam soared through the air and smashed into the truck, his body landing lifelessly on the floor.

The gun was already raised and pointing straight at the red eyed spirit before it had even had a chance to turn around.

" You can't kill me Dean..." The spirit hissed, " You can't..."

" Maybe not.." Dean said with a snarl, " But I can sure as hell try..."

He didn't say another word, he had no idea what was in the gun; but he fired.

And fired

And fired

And fired

And then failed to register as the barrel rolled around empty, the useless clicking falling to deaf ears.

Dean watched as the spirit screamed, its body struggling violently as the bullets thudded into it. The body danced around, as the black mass illuminated the dark night sky as it burned.

It's evil, crimson red eyes, finally exploded.

And then there was nothing but a pile of smouldering ash...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Really hope you guys enjoyed it. If you get a chance please leave a little review :o) Until next update, thanks for reading….**


	21. At a Lose

**Sorry for the delay in the chapter posting, between school, home and life, sometimes you can just never get around to your computer ! Thank you all so much for your reviews ! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you continue to stick with the series ! At best I think there are only two more chapters to go after this; so the finish line is in sight.**

**Without further ado…..'At a Lose'**

**Chapter 21-At a Lose**

Dean stood on rubbery legs watching the sight in front of him in confusion.

He'd taken out spirits before, but it had never gone down like that, never seen it end like that. He'd never seen a spirit go up in smoke, literally.

His body was shaking; the shock was slowly washing over him.

His legs stumbled forward towards the truck as his eyes focused on the form that lay just in front of the truck, face down, not moving.

Dean's feet dragged him slowly, but the moonlight shone something in his line of sight. It flickered at him like a beacon, and on unsteady legs dropped to his knees and picked up the object.

It was his hunting knife.

It was then he felt his breath hitch in his chest.

He could smell the poison already, his hand coated with tacky, red blood which was staining his own. It was then his eyes took in his shirt which was coated in blood.

Winchester blood.

On his knees, tears already stinging his eyes, he slowly glanced over at Sam.

" Oh god, what the hell have I done...?" Dean whispered in a chocked sob as he crawled the rest of the way towards Sam.

" Sam, Sam, Sam...?" Dean chanted as he reached his younger brother, his shaky hands gently touching the back of his brother's dark brown hair, " Sammy..?"

As gently as he could, he turned Sam onto his back and looked at the face, his hands vigorously shaking him.

" Sam, come on, wake up, please..." Dean whispered as his body crumpled onto Sam's, " Please don't take him..."

It was just too real, the nightmare back at the hospital. The emotions of losing Sam.

It was just too real.

Dean realised as he sobbed against Sam's shoulder that this pain, would never, ever heal...

" _Oh, god, no..." Dean suddenly gasped out, his own heart bashed violently in his chest. _

_His brother was slipping away._

" _Save him..." Dean begged as he grabbed Dr. Kessin's arm, " Please, please don't let him go..."_

" _Stand clear..." Dr Kessin said his eyes never leaving Sam as the probing hands of the medical team were removed from Sam's body._

" _Please Sammy, please..." Dean whispered in a chant, his eyes looking up to the ceiling, " Please, I'm begging you, come back, come back to me..."_

_Dean watched, his breath held tightly within his lungs, the tears falling from his hazel eyes. The pads to defibulator were pressed nosily and clamped to his brother's form causing the body to convulse. It was an image that Dean would never forget, engraved in his head like a nightmare._

_Dr David Kessin leaned forward himself and examined Sam, he tried desperately to ignore the quivering, emotionally charged figure that floated like a shadow at his side._

" _No response..." The male nurse said. Dean recognised him as one of the nurses that originally had guided him out of the way when Sam had first gone into cardiac arrest._

_Dr Kessin sighed, and Dean's shaking become more obvious. _

_The words were said that Dean never wanted to hear. _

" _Call it..." Dr Kessin said, as Dean's scream filled the room._

_The other doctor in the room moved out the way as Dean collapsed hysterically on top of Sam's lifeless form. Dr Kessin's heart sank as he watched Dean bury his face against Sam's neck, pleading for his brother to wake up._

" _Time of death, 4.32 pm..."_

" Come on Sam..." Dean whispered as his fingers searched around for any sign of life, he almost jumped for the joy when he felt a weak pulse under his shaking fingers.

But he knew his joy would be short lived.

Sam had been poisoned.

Sam had been poisoned by him.

Sitting awkwardly on the floor, he lifted Sam's body roughly against his chest and the movement caused the younger boy to moan.

Dean cried out in happiness.

" Sammy…?!" Dean gasped, " Come on dude, stay with me here…"

" Ugh.." Sam said his hazel eyes blinking as he forced his eyes to look up, and a small relieved smile flickered on Sam's face as he stared up at Dean's distorted face.

" So, is it gone..?" Sam asked his voice dry and raspy as his tongue linked his dry lips.

" Yeah…" Dean breathed as his wild eyes glanced nervously over to the still smouldering pile of ash, " It's gone alright…"

" You sure..?" Sam asked as he shifted slightly in Dean's arms, trying to ignore the iron grip that was Dean's hands which were clammed around his body.

" I'm sure Sammy…" Dean said his hands shaking around Sam's form as he shot another look over to the burning pile of grey ash. " It's really gone…"

" Thank, God…" Sam said in a cagey breath as he physically relaxed against Dean, his head resting heavier now against his elder brother's chest, " Cause that thing was really beginning to freak me out…"

" It's all gone now…" Dean said as his eyes tried to ignore his brother's fallen form as his mind frantically tried to piece together a plan.

But he couldn't, everything thing was just hitting him with waves of nausea. He felt physically sick, he felt lifeless, and he felt so guilty for what he'd done. Yet even now, where there was a chance that he could fix this, Dean had no idea what to do.

He was failing again.

" Dean…" Sam whispered as he turned awkwardly against his brother's side, as if he wanted to sleep, " Is your head ok..?"

Dean's laugh was a combination of mad laughter and a sob as he smoothed Sam's hair off his forehead so he could get a better look at him. He had to pull himself together, he had to. He could sink into despair later on, continue the self loathing at a different point, but for now; he had to try to save Sam.

He owed his little brother that much.

Gingerly, Dean's hand picked up Sam's right wrist and pulled his arm into clearer view. Sam was bleeding, badly.

" I got to get you to a hospital.." Dean whispered, having no idea how he would explain the bizarre poison that was in Sam's system, how he would explain the bleeding arms, and the gash across the stomach.

" Your head..?" Sam said in a sleepy tone, " It's ok..?"

" Yeah, it's harder than you think…" Dean said with a sad grin, " Sammy, listen to me, I'm gonna go to the truck and get a blanket and then we're gonna go to the hospital- I'll think of something to tell them, you just say nothing…" Dean said, trying to install some steel into his tone. " I promise you everything will be ok.."

" Beautiful night…" Sam breathed as he closed his eyes against Dean's chest, " Nice and warm…"

Dean momentarily paused and actually considered what his little brother had just said. It was a beautiful night, with a warm wind blowing. The waves of the ocean gently crashing below them as they sat huddled against the side of a fruit truck.

Focus.

That's what Dean needed.

" Sam, I'll be right back…" Dean said already beginning to move Sam off him; however Sam's weak hands gripping onto his own arms and his body protested against the movement, it made Dean pause.

" No…" Sam said as he forced his eyes open, " Lets stay here…"

Dean managed a smile for Sam's sleepy face, " Dude, you can't stay out here, you're bleeding out in front of me.."

" Where did you get the truck from..?" Sam asked as he snuggled against Dean who groaned. Besides it being ridiculously girly, Sam wasn't helping the situation by wanting to stay freaking put. " I could smell plums…"

" I got no idea…" Dean muttered, as he raised Sam off him again and gently placed him on the ground. " Now stop changing the subject, you and me, we're going for a little ride, the hospital ain't far from here…"

" I want to stay here…" Sam said as he turned his head away from Dean who was already yanking open the cab door and digging around inside on very unsteady legs. His nose wrinkled as he found a musty old fire blanket. Beggars couldn't be choosers in this situation.

" I don't care what you want Sammy…" Dean said in an annoyed tone. He groaned inwardly, he wasn't annoyed at Sam; he was annoyed at the situation. Yet it hadn't exactly come out that way.

" I didn't mean it like that…" Dean said his voice thick with remorse, " It's just, we don't have much time, and I seriously need to get you out of here…" Dean explained hoping that it would be enough to remove the horrid chill that had suddenly settled over Sam and himself.

" I don't want to go, I want to stay here, with you…" Sam said his voice thick with sleep, " I don't have long D…-"

" Shut up Sam, it's more complicated than you think.." Dean shouted his voice gradually shaking as he threw the blanket over Sam hurriedly, " I, you, just, I…."

" Dean, please…" Sam said his voice almost breathless, " I need to stay here…"

" I can't…" Dean said feeling the tears brimming at the end of his eyes. He had to tell Sam what he's done, he had to. " The knife Sam, it, oh my god, Sam I'm so sorry, I've done…-"

" It's ok…" Sam said his hazel eyes looking deeply into Dean's tear filled green eyes, " I know, it's ok…"

Dean's mouth dropped open.

He felt like he'd been blasted in the heart by his own gun.

" Why..?" Dean stammered out as the tears begun to fall, " You knew, you knew about the poison, and you still, why..?!"

" Cause it was the only way…." Sam said with a faint smile, " The world needs a Winchester to keep it ticking over.."

" Sam I don't know how to cure you…" Dean said as the sobs broke over his body, " I don't know what to do, I don't want you to die…"

Sam forced his eyes open and purposely looked into Dean's hazel green eyes.

" I'm already dead, Dean…." Sam explained, his voice gentle, " I died in the car crash and something brought me back. Maybe this is what I came back for, to help you and then move on…"

" No…" Dean said as buried his head against Sam's chest, " No, they wouldn't do this, they couldn't, why would they..? Why would they put us through all of this, if it was to end this way..?"

" I don't want us to fight.." Sam said simply, a little smile appearing on his face " I just want to sit here and talk, I don't want to be driving around in some fruit truck; heck it's not even the Impala.."

Dean scrambled to his feet and stumbled away from Sam, his tears blinding him as he walked, Sam could only watch him leave.

Dean suddenly turned and looked at Sam who was pulling himself into a sitting position against the truck. With his back against the wheel, he raised his heavy head and found himself staring at Dean who was frozen a several feet away, just staring.

" It's my job to keep him safe…" Dean whispered, " I know I screw things up, I know I've screwed everything up, but please, anyone out there listening to me, please help me, help us. Give me a hand here, give me a sign. Mom please…."

Dean's hazel green eyes stared up at the star filled night sky, his soul searching for answers in a situation that simply offered none.

His eyes closed.

There were no words, no epiphanies of any sort, no answers to help him.

" Dean..."

Dean's head slowly rose as Sam's voice cut through his thoughts, his glazed eyes slowly trailed over to his brother who had a smile on his face.

This couldn't be happening.

After everything his family had been through. The demon coming into their lives and killing their mother, destroying their father and twisting him into an obsessive hunting machine. Having a child hood distorted and programmed into becoming hunters themselves. A crazed passion that had been drip fed into them both.

The only thing that had ever kept Dean sane was his little brother. It was the one thing that was normal, typical; innocent. The arguments, the fights, the bickering. The wrestling for fun, the games they'd play, hide and seek, frozen statues.

It was the one consistent thing in Dean's life.

He hadn't even realised that somewhere along the line, birthday after birthday had slipped by without celebration, and he was suddenly an adult in his mid-ish twenties, yet his mind had remained the same, an adult with a child like side that he would never out grow.

And now it was all slipping away again.

Dean trotted over to Sam and sunk down on the ground beside him.

" What were you doing over there..? Who were you talking to..?" Sam asked his with a heavy tone, " You're not going crazy are you...?" A grin appearing on his face.

" Are you kidding me, the moment you walked into my life, you turned me crazy..." Dean said with a chuckle, as he gently pulled the blanket closer around Sam.

" Liar, I made your life more interesting.." Sam said with a grin, " I mean how many little brother's do you know, that actually can fly..."

Dean burst out laughing, " Oh my god, do you remember that..?"

" Yeah.." Sam said with a small smile, " I stole your Batman outfit cause you wouldn't play with me..."

" Yeah, and then you climbed onto the roof to take off..." Dean said shaking his head as the memory danced around his head, " Dad was gonna kill you..."

" But I flew..." Sam insisted, " And broke my arm, but I flew.."

Dean laughed, " You were what, seven..?"

" Humm.." Sam said with a sleepy smile, " Dad burned that Batman outfit after that, and Bobby.."

" Yeah, first time that poor man met us and you were busy trying to learn how to fly..." Dean said with a chuckle, " Bobby almost had heart failure watching you jump off..."

" He thought he could catch me.." Sam said with a chuckle as he inched himself closer to Dean. Taking the chance he rested his head against Dean's shoulder.

" Instead you landed on him..." Dean said with a grin, " Do you remember what Bobby told dad..?"

" No, was too busy seeing clowns in our room..." Sam said shuddering at the memory, " There is something about being high on medication that always makes me see clowns.."

" Bobby told dad to never bring us anywhere near him or his home again..." Dean said with a smile as he rested his own head against Sam's, " Dad grabbed us both and took off, and while we were driving you were balling your eyes out, saying there was a clown sitting beside you in the car.." Dean said with a grin, " Which makes total sense now, considering you were seeing them in the bedroom.."

" I like Bobby..." Sam said in a quiet voice,

" I like him too.." Dean admitted as he closed his eyes as he talked, tiredness washing over him.

" I wish dad was here..." Sam whispered, sadness clear in his tone, " I wish I could see dad again, one last time before...-"

" Bobby...!" Dean suddenly shouted, his voice booming over Sam's. The excitement tearing through the night air, " Oh my god..."

Dean scrambled to his knees, gently easing Sam off him.

" Dean, where are you..-?" Sam said when he felt Dean's hand slip under his arms, " Dean, please, it..." Sam's voice cried out in pain, as his muscles trembled as Dean hurriedly pulled him into a standing position.

" I know it hurts Sam, I know, I'm sorry..." Dean whispered, " But you got to work with me on this, you have to. Then you can rest and sleep, and do whatever it is you want, just please, help me here..."

Sam's hazel eyes locked with Dean's hope filled eyes.

He finally nodded and gritted his teeth and pulled himself to his feet, his body leaning heavily against the door of the fruit truck.

" Thank you..." Dean whispered, " Thank you Sam..."

Easing his brother into the truck, Dean hurried over to the drivers cab, searched for the keys to the truck and shoved them into the ignition.

Dean cast a look at Sam who was slumped into the seat beside him.

Maybe moving him wasn't the greatest idea Dean had had to date. Sam now looked awful, his skin was a shade of white Dean wasn't sure was possible, his eyes wore dark rings, his dark brown hair making his skin look even paler; and now his breathing was rattling around.

Forcing his eyes to the road, he started the fruit truck and pulled away, his thoughts praying that the idea that had launched into his mind would play out the way he wanted to...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Dean glanced over at Sam who was unconscious on his bed. He was beyond exhausted now and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed himself and sleep.

The elder brother stared at his cell phone.

It wasn't a time to call his father. Even if he put all his anger and hatred he felt for him at the moment aside, he still couldn't call him.

How on earth would he explain what had happened to them, especially when Dean was still trying to figure out everything himself.

So instead he called the one other person he knew he could trust. Putting the phone against his ear, he sucked in a shaky voice and held it there.

" Hello..?" Came the gruff voice over the phone.

" Bobby..." Dean said in a breathless tone, already feeling the apprehension in the pit of his stomach shoot up to his throat.

" Who the heck is this, where did you get this number from..?" Bobby demanded. If it was any other situation, Dean probably would have enjoyed having a chuckle at the older hunter's expense, but now was defiantly not the time to be doing that.

" Bobby, I need..-" Dean whispered, but the older hunters voice cut straight through his own.

" Dean..? Dean is that you..?" Bobby asked, the excitement and relief bleeding through his voice.

" I need your help..." Dean said slowly, " The book you gave us.."

" Where are you...? Dean you just took off without a word to anyone, is Sam ok...? Are you ok..? Where is Sam, let me talk to him.." Bobby rattled, the questions for the missing Winchester duo simply rolling off his tongue.

Dean closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.

" Bobby, in the 'Key of Solomon', there is a ritual..." Dean ignoring all the questions that Bobby had just dumped on him, " I need to know if there is a way to reverse it..."

" Dean..?" Bobby asked, " What's happened..?"

" I just need to know, Bobby..." Dean whispered as his eyes glanced at Sam's sleeping form.

" It depends on what ritual Dean..." Bobby said in a confused tone, " What ritual did you use...?"

Dean breathed in shakily and fought back the bile that suddenly rose to this throat.

" It's a sacrificial ritual..." Dean said trying to insert some steel into his voice, " The one with the three point poisoning..."

Dean listened.

His entire being and hope resting on what the older hunter said in response.

" Dean, there is a reversal..." Bobby said in a plain tone, " But it's not in the book.."

" Where is it..?" Dean demanded, unable to keep the panic out of his voice, " Tell me where to find it..."

" Dean, why do you need it..? What's gone wrong..?" Bobby asked in a steady tone, " If you boys are in trouble, then let me help you.."

" Just tell me where to find the cure.." Dean said in a composed tone, " Bobby, please..."

" Let me talk to Sam, Dean..." Bobby demanded, " Now..."

Dean closed his eyes and fought back the tears that attacked his eyes.

" He's sleeping..." Dean whispered, " Bobby, he's sleeping..."

" Then go and wake him..." Bobby demanded the fear in his own tone over taking the anger in his voice.

" I, I, can't..." Dean chocked out as the tears streamed down his face, " Bobby, I can't..."

Bobby Singer pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the front of his phone. Dean had held back his cell phone number. Bobby didn't know the area code and therefore didn't even know what state these boys were in. They were in trouble. That much he did know. The helplessness that sifted through Bobby, felt like razors tumbling through him.

He was fond of both boys.

Looked at them almost like family.

And now one of them was breaking down in the middle of no where, and he couldn't even speak to the other.

Einstein wasn't needed to figure out what was going on here.

" When did it happen..?" Bobby asked in a steady tone.

He couldn't account blame to the situation yet, he didn't know what had happened, and he didn't know the full story. All he could try and do is help.

Keep Dean together mentally.

Offer the boy some hope.

" Dean..?" Bobby said worry creeping into his voice, " Dean, you still there..?"

" About an hour ago, maybe an hour and fifteen, I don't know exactly..." Dean said in a drained tone, " The ritual wasn't complete, the last incision didn't go right across.."

" Good, that may have just saved your ass..." Bobby said, " Dean, now you listen to me very carefully, the window is only three hours, so you don't have much time..."

Dean pressed the phone closer to his ear.

Sam had to get better, get well; be Sammy again.

Dean would fix this situation.

Or die trying...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Not long to go now ! Just winding down the chapters and setting up the next story that will follow this one 'Catch 22'. Hope you guys will come join me during that one also. Thanks for reading, and if you get a chance please drop me a review, I always love hearing from you guys !**


	22. Letters to a Loved One

**Ok gang, the finish line is now in sight ! This is the penultimate chapter of Lying in Wait. If you've enjoyed this story, I look forward to seeing you again in the new story 'Catch 22', the last in this trilogy. I hope you guys have enjoyed it so far. Thank you all so much for the reviews, they are the inspiration to a girl who is buried down with so many assignments; they keep me going !**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks again for reading. So without further ado, here is 'Letters to a Loved One'…**

**Chapter 22- Letters to a Loved one**

Alex Vetorio's hazel eyes narrowed as he lent against his kitchen counter, a sceptical look on his face.

John Winchester kept his gaze steady, his face relaxed and his voice as calm as humanly possible.

The older hunter simply prayed that the twenty two year old that was standing across the kitchen from him, wouldn't pick up on exactly how nervous he actually was.

He was beyond grateful that sitting in the chair beside him was Ben Vetorio; Alex's father.

" You've got to be kidding me..." Alex said looking from his father to John, his handsome face slipped from a smile to one of surprise, " You're not kidding me are you...?"

" No.." Ben said getting out of his chair and walking towards his eldest son, " So do you think you can find them...?"

" Yeah of course I can..." Alex said unable to shake off the funny feeling that was floating around his stomach, " You know I can..."

" Good, tell me what you need and I'll go get it..." John said simply as he stood up from the kitchen table.

" What I need is an explanation..." Alex said simply as he ignored the angry look his father was shooting him. " How about the truth this time..."

" Look, we've told you, his sons are missing and we need to find them.." Ben said answering quickly as he watched as John vacated the kitchen.

" Sons huh..? As in more than one..?" Alex said with a pointed look, " These sons that he hasn't even mentioned for three weeks.."

" Alex, now don't start..." Ben said with a groan as he put a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and then ruffled his son's ebony black hair, " Just trust me on this baby..."

" You, I trust..!" Alex said unable to keep his temper subdued anymore, " Johnny boy, I'm not so sure about..."

Ben promptly walked away, his back to his son.

" Dad, I know he's an old friend of yours, and that is literally the only reason I've been putting up with this sergeant major crap of his..." Alex muttered as he walked towards his father, " But there is something not right about this guy, something I don't trust.."

" Sweetheart, listen to me..." Ben said in a gentle tone, " I know you don't like him.."

" I didn't say that, I mean he knows his stuff, demons, spirits, rituals, I mean the guy's good.." Alex said with a shrug, " It'll be useful to know someone like that, we could do with having his knowledge on our side..."

" But...?" Ben said as he turned to face his eldest son,

" But, why..? Why does he know this stuff, how does he know this stuff..?" Alex asked curiously, " And dad, I asked him about his family, he told me didn't have one..!"

" Look, John can be a little odd at times, but he's a good person with a good heart.." Ben said simply,

" Just a liar..?" Alex said with a shrug, " Why would you lie about having children..?"

" I don't know.." Ben said shaking his head, " He's very protective over his boys..."

Alex grinned with at his father, " Bit like someone else I know.."

" So you'll help him..?" Ben said with a hopeful tone, " Come on, Alex.."

" Yeah, I'll help.." Alex said with a grin, as he headed towards the kitchen swing door as his father followed him into the hall just as John was coming down the steps.

John stood staring at the young man in front of him.

" You got a photo or something...?" Alex asked as he studied the older man's face; something just wasn't right.

" Erm, actually no..." John said in a awkward tone, " I don't carry photos.."

Alex shot his father a look, and was surprised to see his father standing there with his mouth wide open.

" You don't have any pictures of your kids..? The age doesn't matter.." Alex said in a hopefully tone.

" No.." John said simply, " But I got this.."

John held out a small pocket knife to Alex and pressed it lightly into his palm.

" You can find them through their energies right..? Well they should be together, so if you can find one, the other won't be far behind.." John said simply as he moved off the step and gestured for Alex to go up.

" I'll see what I can come up with, but you know it'll work a hell of a lot faster is I just called Nic..-" Alex said.

" No..!" John snapped suddenly, " No, don't do that, you just do it yourself.."

Alex's eyes narrowed as he studied the older man in front of him, his hazel brown eyes then drifted over to his father, who stood their, his eyes pleading desperately for his older boy's cooperation.

" Ok..." Alex said with narrow look, " You know what, whatever.."

Ben watched as Alex jogged up the stairs and once out of sight turned furiously towards his friend.

" Are you for real...?!" Ben demanded, " What were you thinking..?"

" Oh relax will you, he's helping me find my boys, that's all that matters..." John said simply as he turned to head towards the kitchen, " Beer..?"

" You don't have any pictures of your children..?" Ben asked in disbelief, " None whatsoever..?"

" Nope.." John said simply as he opened the fridge and then realised that Ben was silent. " Look, the job I do, the life I lead, the things I face; giving the enemy the faces of the ones I love, don't seem like the smartest plan to have.."

" John, even I don't know what your sons look like. They could walk through my front door right now and I wouldn't know them.." Ben said in a plain tone, " Why don't you just ring Dean..?"

" I can't.." John said simply as he snapped the lid off the bottle of beer and took a swig, " It's complicated.."

" And so is lying to my sons.." Ben muttered, " Look I don't know what kind of messed up relationship you have with your kids, but I don't like lying to mine..."

" Don't even start lecturing me..." John muttered.

" Like you'd even listen to me.." Ben muttered as he yanked open his fridge, pulled out a beer, wrenched the top off and took a long swig on it. " You know what, every time you wonder back into my life, I end up drinking more.."

John laughed out loud as Ben's eyes narrowed at his old friend.

" Seriously John, you want my boys to help you find this demon of yours, then lying to them isn't the best bet.." Ben said in a pointed tone. " And don't think I haven't figured out why you didn't want Nic involved in this.."

" Don't know what you mean.." John said with an innocent smile as he took another swig.

" You know exactly what I..-" Ben started to say when the kitchen door swung open and Alex wondered into the kitchen.

" Where did you leave you kids exactly..?" Alex asked in a curious tone.

" Why..?" John asked coming over to the kitchen table where Alex had spread the map, a crystal on a silver linked chain dangled from it, tied to the top of the chain was the pocket knife.

" Well the good news is, your sons are still alive, well at least the one who owned this pocket knife..." Alex said as he watched as the crystal pulled his hand over to the end of map and stuck to a specific location.

" They are...?" John whispered his voice almost breathless.

" Yup..." Alex said as he eyed his father's bottle of beer.

" Don't even think about it boy, you're working tonight...!" Ben said swatting his son's hand away.

" Boring..!" Alex said with a grin, as he caught the look John was sending him. "Something wrong..?"

" Where are they..?!" John snapped which made Alex's eyes widened.

" Oh right.." Alex said as he glanced down at the crystal tip, " Ermm, according to this, they're in Clearwater, Clearwater Florida..."

John nodded, slowly digesting the information...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Delicate sun light streamed through the Winchester beach house as dawn broke over Clearwater.

Dean rubbed at his tried eyes and gently wound the lily white bandages around Sam's now stitched wounds. The older hunter tucked the bandage in with a safety pin and just for a second allowed Sam's cold, limp hand to rest in his lap.

He was so tired of everything.

Tired of having to stitch Sam up, tired of hunting, tired of being hurt, tired of being confused, tired of having no answers, tired of being abandoned, tired of being a liability.

Dean was just tired.

He sighed quietly and looked over at Sam who was deep in a drug induced sleep.

His baby brother had saved the day.

A small smile baited to his lips as wondered what on earth Sam had loaded into his pearl handled gun.

Sam was so pale, the bandages looking darker than his skin, his brown hair looking shades darker than their natural colour, his lips very pale.

What was he expecting, a miracle..? Only time would tell if Sam would be ok. Dean had followed Bobby's instructions to a tee. Sam had been so weak he hadn't even been able to drink the concoction that Dean had knocked up. There had been angry shouting from Dean as he lost his temper time and time again as Sam seemed ready to disappear from existence.

Sam's small voice pleading for Dean to simply let him go.

Dean was having none of it.

He had forced that potion down his brother's throat and clamped his mouth shut as Sam cried from the pain his body was in; Dean own eyes tear filled, but refusing to cry as he held Sam down and watched his younger brother lose consciousness.

That's when he'd started stitching Sam up, the slice in his stomach would be sore but hadn't required stitches, but both the arm wounds had.

He thought about the scars that would be left in their place. He wondered if Sam would ever be able to look at the scars and not hate him.

Dean wondered if Sam would ever be able to look at him again.

Dean wondered if Sam would ever be able to trust him again.

Dean wondered if Sam would ever forgive him.

Lord knows he didn't deserve it.

Picking the blanket off the floor, he opened it and covered Sam with it, his own body wanting nothing more than to crawl into the bed beside him and sleep for a month.

" Sleep..." Came Sam's sleepy voice as his hazel eyes cracked open for a moment and looked tiredly at Dean, " Sleep..."

" Sounds like a plan Sammy..." Dean said with a smile, " You get some sleep..." Dean said as he eased himself off the bed and edged towards the door.

" No, you..." Sam said as he looked helplessly at Dean, as the elder brother finally understood what Sam was saying.

" Don't worry about me little man, I'll get some sleep soon.." Dean said standing at the doorway, " It's time you stopped taking care of me, and took care of yourself..."

There was no answer from Sam as Dean listened as his brother's breathing fell into a delicate pattern. Dean finally drifted away from the door and sighed as he walked into the living room which resembled a bomb sight, thanks to his panicked creation of an antidote.

Thank god for Bobby.

He'd have to send Bobby a thank you gift. Maybe a crate of beer, or perhaps a ham, Bobby seemed to really like ham.

A grin appeared on Dean's face as he thought about Bobby and his fondness of ham. The elder Winchester decided against the desperately needed clean up of the kitchen and headed towards the couches. Nothing like mindless TV to put you into lullaby mode for sleep.

Flopping down on the three seater, his hands automatically reached for the remote, his eyes settling on the TV set. When did the screen get smashed in, and why was it only now he was noticing? Dean's eyes slowly scanned the living room and his mouth dropped open when he spotted the pipe that lay not far from the veranda door.

His hazel green eyes stared at the air conditioning unit and suddenly it started to make sense to why the living room was as cold as it was. The air conditioning unit was broken, and from Dean's quick deduction, judging from the pipe that lay on the floor, it went without saying that that pipe had something to do with the air conditioning.

Glancing at the busted TV set, Dean stifled a yawn and lay down on the sofa, tucking his knees up against his chest. Facing the TV set, his eyes slowly closing off, Dean's sleepy eyes noticed an envelope lying on the floor.

Curiously, Dean sat up, reached under the coffee table and pulled the cream coloured envelope. Turning it around Dean was surprised to see his name scribbled across the front.

His eye brows knotted, Dean opened the envelope. He already knew the handwriting was Sam's, his little brother had distinctive penmanship; or as their father would put it, a challenge for the sanest person to read.

Dean opened the lined paper and slowly begun to read the letter...

_Dean,_

_If you're reading this now, well, I guess I never made it back._

_It's weird writing this, strange not knowing what is going to happen, but even stranger knowing what the outcome will be._

_Don't be angry. Don't be upset, but most importantly, don't you dare blame yourself or so help me god I will find a way to come back and haunt the shit out of you._

_I understand what you did, hell a small part of me is actually really happy to know that you loved me, but deep down I always knew you did. I don't blame you, I never will. You thought you were saving me, you believed, truly believed that doing what you did would save me; and let's face it big brother, all you've ever done is save me. _

_Got to be the most boring job on the entire planet._

_This isn't exactly coming out the way I wanted it to, but I don't have time to restart this letter, I've already written it three times, and you'll be back any time soon._

_You know I love you right..? You know I'm proud of you, admire you and wish I was alive to tell you this instead of being a coward and writing it on paper; however knowing you, you'd dismiss it as another chick like moment._

_I'm gonna miss you so much. I wish there was more time. There is so much more I want to tell you, so much I want to hear you say. I always wanted to see you happy, to see you safe, to know that for once the person that would come first in Dean's life, would be Dean. I want you to read this line, over and over and over again Dean, I mean it. _

_READ IT._

_You deserve to be happy._

_If anyone in this world deserved that right, it's you._

_I'm gonna end up balling my eyes out over this paper and that's only gonnna blind me and render me even more useless._

_I better go. I don't know what else to say. I could write the words I love you over and over on this paper but they just read hollow. I can't believe we missed all those chances to say it._

_I wish I could hug you one last time._

_I wish I could see you just one more time and tell you that I love you and am so proud of you._

_I wish I could tell you that you are my hero._

_I wish this whole mess hadn't started._

_If you ever catch up with dad, tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I'm sorry I screwed up everything and let the demon go. Then tell him to find the son of a bitch and blow its friggin brains out._

_You'll never be alone Dean, you'll never be by yourself. I'll always be there for you, always willing to listen, always by your side. I was born to watch your back; even in death I'll do it. I think it's the one order of dad's that I actually followed through with._

_Do me a favour and think of me every once in a while, because I'll never stop thinking of you._

_This is your chance for freedom Dean, take it with both hands and be happy._

_Now I really do have to go._

_Take care my brother. _

_I'll never stray too far from you. I'm sorry for all the fights we had, I'm sorry I never took the chances to hug you, but god, I'm gonna miss you. I'm gonna miss you more than you will ever be able to imagine. I'm balling my eyes out right now, actually glad you can't see me. You always were more than just my big brother, a bit more than my animated super hero; you were my closest and best friend._

_Please look after yourself Dean. Remember, and always remember that I understand what happened, and I do not blame you for any of this._

_Be free my brother._

_I love you. _

_Sammy xxx_

_Ps- Please tell dad that I love him also._

Dean hadn't even been aware of the tears that were trickling on his face until they hit the single sheet of paper he was holding.

How dare he ?

How dare Sam do this ?

How dare his stupid little brother openly walk into a situation he knew he would die in.

What was he thinking..? How dare he think that his life was worth less than Dean's ?

How dare he ?

Dean rubbed his tired face and angrily wiped the tears from it.

He hopped to his feet and stormed into the silent bedroom his younger brother lay sleeping in.

" Sam..!" Dean shouted over the sleeping figure, his voice shaking his hands bunched in tight fists, the precious letter being scrunched and damaged.

" Wake up…" Dean said angrily as his hands reached down to shake the boy awake.

But he couldn't.

As angry and as mad as he was, his heart broke slowly as he sunk onto the bed beside Sam. Tears slowly filtered down his face, the realisation of what had happened to them both in the last four weeks slowly dawning on the elder of the Winchester brothers.

Sam had known, Sam had known all along that Dean was taking him out to those cliffs to kill him, and yet he'd gone.

" Sam…?" Dean said lying beside and gently shaking Sam's arm until the boy groggily opened his hazel eyes.

" Humm…" Sam said his eyes blinking as he tried to focus on Dean's face.

" Why..?" Dean whispered to him, propped up on his elbows staring at Sam's pale face and raccoon eyes. " Why did you go with me to the cliffs, I need to know, I need to understand why..?"

Sam's eyes flickered shut, his limp hand gently shifting onto Dean's back. Dean sighed deeply, realising that talking to Sam while he was out completely out of it on Bobby's antidote, probably wasn't the smartest thing to do.

The letter still lay in his hands and he gently folded the fragile piece of paper and placed it under the pillow he rested his head on. He stared at the profile of Sam and could feel his hazel green eyes finally giving into the sleep he so desperately craved.

" To save you…." Sam whispered in a faint voice.

Dean raised his head back up, his eyes staring at his brother's still sleeping face, his eyes still closed.

" You did a very stupid thing Sammy…" Dean said trying to keep the anger out of his voice. " You, shou..-"

" You're my brother…" Sam said in a fluffy and sleepy tone, " I'd die for you…"

Dean waited a couple of minutes for Sam to continue the conversation, but the younger Winchester never did, it looked like sleep had claimed another victim.

The elder Winchester brother placed his head back on the pillow, his finger gently touching the letter that remained under the pillow.

Dean knew that Sam would die for him.

His little brother had already done so…..

xxxxXXXXxxxx

**Final chapter the next one ! Thanks so much for all you reviews and most of all thanks for reading. If you get a chance drop me a little review, you know I appreciate them !LOL**


	23. Dusk

**So here it is the final chapter, atlas we're here. Thank you all so much for reading my little blend of madness and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the adventure (and trauma) I've sent the boys on. Thank you to each and everyone one of you who has taken the time and reviewed; it's those little messages that have kept me going with this story.**

**So what else is there to say other than thanks for reading and I hope you guys will follow onto the final installation of this trilogy; Catch 22.**

**So without further babble from me; here's the final instalment of Lying in Wait- Dusk…**

**Chapter 23- Dusk**

Dean Winchester rolled lazily onto his side, his sleepy hazel green eyes glancing at the alarm clock.

It was just after 5pm.

He gingerly raised himself up onto his elbows and glanced over to the other side of the bed expecting to find Sam asleep.

Instead he found the bed empty.

For about thirty seconds Dean continued to stare at the empty bed.

He couldn't be, that, crazy could he ? To have imagined the entire scenario, to actually have believed that he had cured Sam, and that everything was ok.

Was he honestly that deluded ?

God he hoped not.

Slipping off the bed, he trotted sleepily into the living room and found that it pretty much was in the state he'd left it in before he'd gone back into the bedroom to shout and scream at Sam. Fair go not much shouting had come from the elder sibling and alright he'd hadn't screamed either; but he sure as hell had felt like it.

His mind still tired, Dean returned to the bedroom, lifted up the pillow he'd been sleeping on and retrieved the precious letter he'd read. His eyes scanned the letter again.

Part of him wanted to rip the damn thing into a trillion little pieces and let the Florida breeze have its wicked way with it, but the other part of him, the part he found himself listening to wanted to keep the letter, to have it somewhere safe; a place he could retrieve back to when times got testing and read those words of love and encouragement.

He scrubbed a hand over his tired face.

This was going to be very awkward.

Where the hell had his doped up little brother taken off to in the evening, and without telling him, both of them being serious no no's for Dean Winchester.

Dean folded the letter and slipped it into his back pocket on his jeans, he'd find a better hiding place for it later, for now, he needed it close by.

Walking towards the veranda, he hoped his painfully thin little brother would be sitting in the sunshine on the deck, but that would just be too damn easy where that boy was concerned.

Opening the veranda and stepping onto the wooden deck, Dean stared out into the ocean that lapped in the distance and stared down at the sand.

He also stared at the brown headed guy that sat with his back against the wall; the only part visible to Dean was the top of his head.

Dean slid the glass door shut and sucked in a deep breath, he didn't know what he was going to do or what he was going to say but he knew he was going to have to say something.

And with that thought firmly etched in his head, Dean trotted down the steps and plunged his toes into the warm sand and begun his short walk over to his little brother.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Sam Winchester looked up tiredly, as he lifted his head up to look at the man that was approaching him.

" This patch of sand taken..?" Dean asked awkwardly as he stood over Sam.

Sam shook his head, and watched apprehensively as Dean flopped down beside him, mirroring his position on the beach. His back against the shore wall, his head resting back lightly against the wave washed stones.

Sam swallowed and promptly stifled a yawn.

" It's getting to become quite a habit, this you know..." Dean said with a small smile, " Me coming out here and finding you sitting in the sand..."

" I like the beach.." Sam said simply, his voice void of annoyance or accusation but more worryingly, completely void of emotion.

An unlike Sammy characteristic.

The brothers sat there silently, side by side, no sound coming from either of them.

It was stifling for both of them.

So much needed to be said, so much needed to be expressed; yet neither knew how on earth to say it.

So the silence continued.

" So..." Sam said with a small smile, finally breaking the silence, as he turned to look at Dean. His big brother's face was fixed straight ahead, his eyes glazed over, the exhaustion clear on his face.

" You think the tide's coming in..?" Sam said with a grin, " After all the trouble we've been in and managed to get ourselves out of lately, it would be our dumb luck to sit here on the beach and friggin drown..."

Sam chuckled and waited for Dean to come back with some witty line, some smart ass comment; but nothing followed.

" Dean..?" Sam whispered finally shifting a little closer to Dean, " It's gonna be ok..."

" I tried to kill you.." Dean whispered, never looking at Sam, " I put a knife against you wrist which was dipped in poison dragged it into your skin until you bled..."

" You were possessed Dean, it wasn't you.." Sam said in a plain matter of fact tone as he squirmed uncomfortably.

" That's just it Sam..." Dean said in a small tone finally looking at Sam, " I wasn't possessed, I knew exactly what I was doing.."

" You thought you were saving me, that's good enough for me.." Sam said with a gentle smile,

" Yeah I know..." Dean said shaking his head as he sighed heavily.

Sam however wore a quizzical look on his face and clicked his tongue, his pale face, flushed red with embarrassment, and if Dean had been actually looking in his direction would have seen it.

" So, can I have it back then..?" Sam asked in an awkward tone.

" Have what back...?" Dean asked in an innocent, 'I don't know what you're talking about' tone.

" You know what Dean, that's not fair, I said, I mean, I only wrote that..." Sam spluttered and finally looked straight ahead, his cheeks growing a pretty fuchsia colour.

" I don't know what you're talking about..." Dean said simply as he fidgeted in the sand and sloped down further down the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Sam smiled.

He knew what that comment meant.

" For what its worth, that thing you know nothing about..." Sam said looking over at Dean, who finally turned to face him, " I meant every word of it..."

Dean found a humbling smile appearing on his face, one he couldn't hide and one his little pretending game with Sam couldn't deny.

" Don't ever scare me like that again..." Dean finally admitted, " I swear to god Sammy, if you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, I'll kill you myself.."

Sam chuckled as he looked at Dean. He could read his older brother like a book. He could tell how worried Dean was, how scared his elder brother was; that old game face of Dean worked on everyone but Sam.

" How you feeling..?" Dean asked concern in his voice as he glanced at Sam who was still too pale, still too thin and still, well, insert anything into the line there, and it would probably sum up just how crappy and scared Dean was feeling.

" Like I got hit by a bus..." Sam said with a meek grin, " And weirdly, I feel hungry..."

" Well that's something I can rectify.." Dean said with a smile, as he rose to get up, but in seeing Sam's eyes staring into the distance of the water, he eased himself back down.

They sat quietly for a few moments.

Sam's gaunt voice broke the silence with an unusual question.

" What do you remember..?" Sam asked quietly, " Last night, at the cliffs, what do you remember..?"

" I don't know, not much.." Dean admitted with a shrug, as he awkwardly looked away.

" Do you remember where you got the truck from..?" Sam asked curiously, " I can still smell plums.."

" I don't know where that truck came from, don't remember any of that, other than driving home, which is also a bit of a blur..." Dean said with a hint of annoyance in his tone, " Look, can't we just move off this topic..."

" Of course.." Sam said with a nod, but then he turned purposefully towards Dean. He had that Sammy look on his face which made Dean's stomach tie in knots, " But just one more thing.."

" What..?" Dean muttered now not even looking at Sam, but feeling those hazel eyes bore into the side of his head.

" Do you remember anything the spirit told you..? Other than kill me.." Sam said with a light chuckle, " But seriously, do you remember anything..?"

Dean finally turned and looked at Sam.

" No..." Dean whispered, " I don't remember anything, just a feeling.."

" What kind of feeling..?" Sam asked surprised by the answer.

" A feeling of dread, constantly feeling guilty..." Dean said with a shudder, " It was like no matter how much I tried to put it to the back of my mind, it wouldn't work.."

" Dean you have nothing to feel guilty for.." Sam said gently, " I don't blame you, and I never will.."

" But you died.." Dean said in a small voice, " You died trying to save dad and I, and.."

" And nothing..." Sam said, now feeling awkward himself, " Nothing more Dean, it's not your fault, it's not anybody's fault..."

" You said something out there..." Dean said looking at Sam, " Something about it being your time, that you'd only been sent back to save me from this spirit..." Dean asked his eyes visibly worried, " Do you honestly believe that ?"

Sam was quiet for a moment.

" Yes..." Sam finally asked as he watched as Dean's head dropped down, " But maybe it wasn't this time, maybe it just wasn't my time; to be honest Dean I don't know what to think..."

" Join the friggin club..." Dean muttered in annoyance as he scooped up sand in his hand and watched as it disappeared through his fingers.

" It said something to me..." Sam said as he slumped down further on the wall, " Right before you shot it.."

Dean's head slowly turned and looked at Sam, " It did..?"

Sam nodded slowly, as he chewed his bottom lip nervously, " It said, that killing it would be the biggest mistake we ever made..."

Dean was unusually quiet as he considered what Sam said.

" What do you think it meant by that..?" Sam asked in a small tone,

" It was just desperate to stay alive.." Dean said a shrug, "It would have told us anything to get its own way.."

" I'm not so sure Dean..." Sam admitted, " I got a weird feeling about this, something about this whole damn situation isn't adding up.."

" You see, I don't get you Sam..." Dean steamed, " We just dodged a pretty big bullet, we got away with it, ok ? Stop tearing everything to pieces.."

" Dean this has never happened to us before.." Sam pointed out in an angry tone, " We've always managed to find something on anything we've ever gone after, or in this case, has come after us..."

" Of course, cause we know everything there is to know about the yellow eyed friggin demon now isn't it..?" Dean snapped as he folded his arms across his chest.

" How do we know he wasn't involved in this ? I mean anything bizarre that ever goes down is always connected to him, and this thing had glowing eyes just like it.." Sam heatedly protested.

" Unless you've also gone colour-blind as well as stupid, that spirit had red eyes.." Dean snapped, as he rose to get off the sand again, " Look Sam, I'm sorry for what happened out there, I screwed up big time, I know that..."

" Dean..-" Sam said in a tried tone, as he watched as Dean raised a hand in protest.

" I will make it up to you..." Dean insisted, " I don't know how exactly, but I will.."

" Please Dean, I don't want us to fight, not after everything that has happened.." Sam whispered in a small voice as he watched as Dean who was on his knees stared at him, tired.

" I don't know what to do Sam..." Dean finally whispered, " All I keep thinking about is the fact that I nearly killed you, and I couldn't stop it, it was like I knew what I was doing.."

" You were possessed.." Sam said in a matter of fact tone, his hand gently reaching out and giving Dean's wrist a squeeze.

Dean's eyes instantly went to the bandages and he felt sick.

" I lied to you..." Dean said his hanging in disgust, " Sam I am so sorry..."

" I don't blame you ok, and I'm not mad.." Sam insisted, " But I will get mad at you if you keep blaming yourself.."

Dean finally met Sam's hazel eyes, and studied his little brother. He'd come so close to losing him, and he had no one to blame but himself; he was the one who screwed up. No matter how many times Sam insisted that it wasn't his fault, that it was evil at work, Dean knew differently. It the only thing that made sense; Dean had screwed up, like Dean always did.

But it couldn't go on; he owed that to Sam and himself. After everything that happened between the brothers, everything that they'd both almost lost, all the pain all the torture, the worrying; they'd both just about survived.

" You and me..." Dean finally whispered as he saw the worry in Sam's eyes, worry that shouldn't be there; it wasn't Sam's job to take care of him, it was Dean's responsibility to be the big brother and take care of Sammy.

" Yeah..?" Sam asked noticing that Dean had trailed off, that his brother's hazel green eyes could no longer meet his. Sam's heart flip-flopped in his chest.

Dean returned to his position beside Sam, leaning against the water buffed sea wall; any excuse not to look at Sam, not to see the pain that was so visible in his little brother's eyes.

Dean listened as Sam sighed heavily.

" I'm sorry..." Dean whispered as he looked ahead at the setting sun, dusk descending on Clearwater, " I should of saved you.."

" You did..." Sam said with a smile as he stared at the setting sun and nudged Dean in the ribs, " You shot the bastard and killed it.."

Dean smiled at that comment; he had killed the son of a bitch.

" You and me.." Dean said again, finally mustering up the strength to complete the question. " We're gonna be ok aren't we..? We're gonna get through this..."

A natural, wide smile spread over Sam's tired face.

With that he wriggled down lower on the sand, and snaking the opportunity, he rested his head against Dean's shoulder.

" We'll be fine..." Sam said his eyes staring at the mess of delicate orange and reds that bled into in the open sky.

Dean rolled his eyes and stared at the top of Sam's head which rested against his shoulder.

" You're really milking this moment aren't you..?" Dean teased as he watched the sun lower on the sunshine coast.

" Considering everything that's happened in the last four weeks, I think I've earned it.." Sam said with a chuckle, as he realised with a grin that Dean hadn't shrugged him off. " I mean, there's nothing else we're hiding from each other, we're finally on a level playing field, and the bastard that's been tormenting our friggin lives the past few weeks is dead; so I think I've earned this sappy moment..."

Dean's heart danced around in his chest.

Sam didn't know everything; he didn't know about Dr. Andrew Wallis, he didn't know about the hospitals, he didn't know about the whole commotion in the hospital room when he'd come back to life. Sammy didn't know the whole story of the angel that had come to say goodbye to his family, the angel that had been about to move onto somewhere, but had somehow ended up back on earth; had somehow managed to find himself lying in the sand, with his head resting against his big brother's shoulder.

And right at this moment in time, Sammy was convinced that Dean had told him everything.

That they were equals and on a level playing field.

That his big brother had been totally honest with him.

He hadn't even told Sam about the co-ordinates that John had left for them.

Dean glanced down at Sam's head and found a smile enter his face. He'd tell Sam everything, he knew he had to, just not right now; right now he just wanted to stay exactly where he was, with who he was with.

Everything else could wait.

" I guess you have..." Dean admitted as he sighed contently. " Just don't make a habit of these girly moments, or I'll start charging you..."

Sam laughed at that comment, and both boys sat in silence again, watching the sun set.

Sam's voice broke the silence with the words that lifted Dean's spirits.

" We'll get through this Dean..." Sam promised the sincerity in his tone as he his head never moved from the comforting spot on Dean's shoulder. " You and me, we'll be just fine, I know we will..."

Dean grinned at that comment, the worry slowly slipping out of his system.

He was incredibly lucky.

He'd been given Sam back and been given a second chance.

No way in hell was Dean going to blow this opportunity.

" You can be sooo melo-dramatic at times Sammy..." Dean teased as he gently rested his own head onto top of Sam's, accepting the moment for what it was.

A second chance

One without boundaries.

" You bitch..." Dean muttered as he closed his eyes, his cheek nestled amongst Sam's dark brown hair, inhaling the salty sea air as the sun finally set over Clearwater, Florida.

" Yeah me too..." Sam said in a sleepy voice, effortlessly reading between the lines of his brother's crack, as he felt the lightness of Dean's head rest against the top of his own. " Jerk..."

Neither boy would have traded this situation.

Not for anything.

Not for anything in this world...

xxxxXXXXxxxx

They watched, smiling, cackling, laughing; taunting.

Oh what fools they were.

They should have listened to what their brother had told them, that killing him was the biggest mistake they would ever make.

If only the Winchester's knew exactly how big a mistake it would be.

The red eyed brother had simply started the battle.

The war was about to begin.

The blue, green, and orange eyed spirits watched the two brothers on the beach with utter disgust.

If only they knew.

If only they knew what was coming next...

The End.

**3# Catch 22**

Revenge is best served cold, and it's a term that the Winchester brothers are going to learn; fast. As the boys continue to re-build themselves from the last hunt, a new attack exposes just how vulnerable the boys really are; equalling perfect pickings for the ultimate revenge...

**See you all in the next story and once again thank you for reading and of course reviewing !**


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